


Song of the Golden Eagle

by madamteatime



Category: DBSK|Tohoshinki|TVXQ
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 04:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamteatime/pseuds/madamteatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after they are sold into slavery a new mistress buys Yunho and Changmin – and she has plans for them that neither of them can foresee</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun beats down, hot and insistent.

Flies swarm through the air, their buzz cutting through the humidity of the day.

A short, dark-haired woman strolls along the slave docks. She is dressed in heavy riding leathers, seemingly oblivious to the heat. A guard walks five paces behind her, alert and watchful.

She is deep in discussion with one of the slavers, a simpering man dressed in robes of white and grey.

“ – Had known you were coming my lady I would have prepared my best slaves for you – ”

“That won’t be necessary,” the woman says. “Show me what you have.”

“And how does my lady’s pleasure – uh – lean?” the slaver asks.

“I want someone strong.” Her eyes pass over the row of kneeling slaves and dismisses them all at a glance. She moves further along the dock, ignoring the slaver’s needling voice for her to come back.

Two slaves kneel at the edge of the dock, dangerously close to the drop into the water below. Like all slaves their hands are cuffed in front of them, but unlike the other slaves an additional collar around their necks attaches to the cuffs, forcing them to bow their heads.

The woman comes to a pause in front of them. Both slaves are tall and well-built, although minute differences distinguish them. The slightly taller one is lithe and slender, with soft dark hair curling on top of his head. The other is of more stocky build, tan and broad-shouldered with thickly muscled arms and thighs 

“Ah,” the slaver hesitates. “My lady, I don’t think – ”

“Where are they from?”

“The south, near Bylyn.”

The woman taps her chin thoughtfully. These slaves were far from home.

“And their ages?”

“Twenty,” the slaver points to the taller one. “And twenty two.”

The woman curls her fingers under the broad-shouldered slave’s chin and tilts his face up. Fierce, slanted eyes meet her gaze. He has a small, handsome face – full lips and dark brows – that would be quite alluring if not for the look of abject loathing focused on her. He is cuffed and at her mercy, but his expression displays none of the well-trained submission a pleasure slave should have.

The woman’s lips twitch in interest. She drops her hand and turns away.

“I like these ones.”

A ripple of unease goes through the slaver and the guards along the wall.

“My lady, I would advise caution with these two. . .” he murmurs.

She pauses, waits for him to continue. The slaver drops his voice lower.

“Their last master died in. . .suspicious circumstances.”

“They killed him?” she asks, voice bland.

“There was no proof. But it seems highly likely.”

A short silence follows this piece of information. Eventually the woman nods and starts to walk away.

“Good,” she says. “I’ll take them.”

\- - -

Yunho was nine years old when raiders from the north attacked their village.

He woke to the sound of screams and his mother frantically shaking him. She told him to grab Changmin and run – seven year old Changmin, his neighbour and best friend, who until that moment had been sleeping peacefully beside him. Yunho had taken his hand and run into the forest, where they watched from the trees as their village burned to the ground, and Yunho had tried desperately to quiet Changmin’s sobs for fear that they’d be found.

Later the next day they had stumbled into the keep of the nearby castle, exhausted and hungry. The kitchen maid took pity on them, took them in and put them to work in the kitchens.

Everything considered, Yunho thought they had been comparatively lucky. They were alive, after all, and together. Castle Bylyn became his home. Changmin became his home – Changmin who, when Yunho turned twelve, he kissed for the first time under the apple trees and knew what love was.

That was before the war.

After the castle had been ransacked and the royal family killed, slavers from the north came to Bylyn for the first time. They captured everyone who was still alive and healthy and sold them at the slave markets in the docks of Beachdell.

Yunho was seventeen – Changmin fifteen – when they were first sold as pleasure slaves.

\- - -

Castle Kwon stood on an outcrop of rock, a steep drop to the ocean on one side and thick forest at the front. It was a small but strategically important duchy and boasted one of the most well-disciplined armies in the north. Lord Kwon had died four years ago, leaving his only daughter to inherit the estate and surrounding villages.

Though only eighteen at the time Lady Boa had taken the reigns from her father with remarkable alacrity. She refused to marry – though her suitors were many and persistent – and instead devoted herself to the upkeep and defence of her territories. 

Yunho stares up at the castle as they are carted through the gates and wonders what a woman like that could possibly want from them. He glances at Changmin, sitting silent and watchful across from him. They don’t speak – long years together have lessened the need – but he sees the same apprehension mirrored in Changmin’s eyes that he himself feels.

The cart stops. They clamber out and sway in the dying sunlight, legs weak from being inactive for so long. Yunho can’t remember the last time they ate something – he sees Changmin’s mouth tighten, and the way his fingers curl weakly against their chains, and presses against his side.

Lady Boa dismounts from her horse and pulls off her riding gloves. She says something to her guards, gesturing towards Yunho and Changmin, and then disappears into the castle without a backward glance.

A round-faced maid with long brown hair leads them inside and directs them to the baths, murmuring that the lady had ordered they wash and be brought to her in the dining hall. It’s a relief to have the heavy cuffs off at last, although the collar remains. She wrinkles her nose at the manacles and promises to dispose of them. Yunho smiles – she seems nice enough – and then grins when he disrobes casually and makes her blush bright red.

Changmin is more reticent – he waits for her to leave before pulling his clothes off and sliding into the bath with Yunho. It’s a wide, open pool, large enough to fit multiple people. Steam rises from the surface and some sort of bath oil has the water fragrant and milky.

It is only once they are alone that Changmin breathes a sigh of relief and curls into Yunho’s side.

“I’m hungry,” he murmurs.

“I know.” Yunho strokes his cheek. “Just wait a little longer.”

“She seems okay, that woman,” Changmin says, referring to their new mistress. Yunho face darkens.

“They all seem okay at first,” he says, and feels Changmin shudder against him. His arms tighten around the younger man. Five years under a cruel master have instilled a certain wariness in them. Their carefree teen years at Castle Bylyn are a distant memory, clouded by the horror of being sold into slavery.

Yunho coaxes Changmin’s face up and kisses him, soft and sweet as the water laps at them and soothes tension out of their muscles. At least, despite everything, they have managed to stay together. Yunho thinks there is little else he could ask for.

Changmin makes a sound and arches into him, kissing him back hungrily. His stomach rumbles, immediately ruining the moment and drawing helpless laughter out of both of them.

“Come on,” Yunho says. “Let’s tell the maid we’re ready.”

Clean clothes lie folded on a bench next to the bath, soft cotton tunics and pants with brown overcoats. They’re nicer clothes than they’ve had in years, and they exchange impressed look as they get dressed.

Rows and rows of candles wash the dining hall in soft golden light. At the head of the long wooden table sits Lady Boa, clad in a silk grey tunic, leather pants and knee-high boots. They pause on the threshold, unsure of what’s expected of them, and she indicates that they take a seat at the table with her.

For a second neither of them moves. To eat at the same table as their new mistress seems absurdly discourteous, no matter how tempting the wafting scent of food is.

Boa’s eyebrows snap together. She leans forward and beckons them again. "Come."

Changmin moves first, approaching the table cautiously, the fingers of one hand tangled with Yunho’s behind his back and drawing him forward with him.

“Sit,” Boa commands. They sit, side by side, stiff with uneasiness.

“Eat.”

Changmin reaches out slowly and picks up a piece of soft bread. In the years since they left Bylyn they had never once eaten as well as they would have liked to, and yet a veritable feast is spread in front of them now. Yunho watches Changmin nibble at the bread and meets Boa’s eye.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

Some of the rigidity drains from her face. She smiles slightly and picks an apple from the fruit platter. One of the maids approaches, ready to slice it for her, but Boa waves her off.

“So you do talk,” she says, biting into the apple with a loud crunch. Yunho watches her with wary eyes, vaguely aware of Changmin unashamedly tucking into the food beside him.

“Yes,” he says.

“And do you have a name to go with your voice?”

“Yunho.” His fingers brush the inside of Changmin’s wrist. “And this is Changmin.”

Changmin swallows his mouthful of food and looks up. A blush lights his face.

“I – sorry,” he says.

Amusement crinkles Boa’s eyes.

“No matter. So, Yunho,” she turns to the more chatty of the two. “Tell me about yourself.”

Nobody of Boa’s status has ever asked Yunho about himself before. He blinks, thrown by the unexpected question.

“I – we grew up in Castle Bylyn. We worked as kitchen boys there,” he starts.

“Oh? And is that where you met Changmin?”

“No, before that. . .” Yunho glances beside him. Changmin has stopped eating and is staring at his plate. Carefully, Yunho reaches under the table and takes his hand again. “We were neighbors in a village east of Bylyn. Raiders from the north attacked – they killed everyone.”

Yunho swallows. It’s an old memory, one that he’s long since suppressed, but he knows that some nights Changmin stills dreams of fire and wakes with tears on his face. They try not to talk about that time, or the families they lost.

Boa makes a sympathetic sound and looks down.

“Castle Bylyn fell five years ago during the war,” she says. “What happened to you then?”

“We were captured by slavers and sold to one of your northern lords,” Changmin says. He’s apparently lost his appetite and meets her gaze head-on. Boa makes a sound of comprehension.

“That explains it,” she says.

“Explains what?”

While they talk Yunho decides to sample some of the food at last, and almost moans when the hot bread and meat practically melt in his mouth.

“Explains you. You do not have the demeanor of those trained to be pleasure slaves. You don’t even have the demeanor of common work slaves,” Boa says. Somehow this seems to please her. Changmin gives her a blank look.

“Of course we don’t. There are no slaves in the south.”

His tone manages to convey a startling amount of derision and pride in equal measure; at the same it’s clear he thinks her stupid for not making that connection already. Yunho pinches the inside of his wrist – Changmin’s smart mouth has landed them in trouble before and he has no desire to make a bad first impression with their new mistress. Changmin hisses softly and shoots him a glare, but subsides with a muttered apology.

The corner of Boa’s lips twitch.

“Yes, because the resource-rich south could afford not to have slaves,” she says. “The north has not been so lucky. But regardless – we can discuss the morals of economy some other time. I want to hear the rest of your story. What happened after you were sold?”

Deathly silence falls. Yunho stops eating and stares at his plate.

“Your last master was Lord Emir, was he not?”

Yunho’s head snaps up. Changmin is staring at her in mute shock.

“How did you know that?” Yunho demands.

Boa smiles. “I made enquiries. A truly tragic death – suffocated in his sleep.”

Yunho swallows. From the corner of his eye he sees Changmin’s hand close over the table knife.

Boa’s eyes shutter.

“Relax. Emir meant nothing to me – in fact I doubt many will mourn his passing. I didn’t bring you here for a trial.” She leans forward. “What I want to know is why you killed him.”

Yunho sets his jaw and looks away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about my lady. Lord Emir died peacefully in his sleep,” he says.

A long silence follows this assertion. Boa’s cool gaze examines him as though she wants to see into his head.

“So it was you who did it,” she says.

Changmin makes a sound and jerks his head, but the abruptness of his action gives him away. Nobody reacts that instinctively just to defend themselves.

Boa sighs and gestures for a retainer to have the table cleared.

“I think that’s enough psychological torture for one night. Show them to their rooms,” she says before she leaves.

 _Rooms?_ Changmin mouths as the same maid from the baths shows them down a dimply lit hallway. 'Rooms' turns out to be correct – two lavish, adjoining rooms connected through a doorway, both with attached bathrooms and sweeping balconies. Yunho almost laughs; he’s shared a bed with Changmin for most of his life so the idea of them sleeping apart is almost absurd.

“She definitely wants something from us,” he grins at the housemaid, who stutters an agreement and then blushes when she realises what he meant. Yunho laughs and pats her shoulder.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Seohyun,” she bobs politely. “Sir.”

“He’s not a sir,” Changmin drawls from the bed, which he’d immediately sprawled out on with all the easy grace of a prince.

“I could be a sir,” Yunho says defensively.

“Oh yes I can see it now – Sir Yunho, vanguard of the terrifying Lady Boa. Her enemies will cower in fear.”

Yunho snorts. “As if she’d need me to make her enemies cower.”

Seohyun is watching them with a confused look. Changmin rolls onto his stomach and props his chin on his hands.

“Doesn’t she scare you?” he asks her. The maid blinks.

“No. My lady is sweet and kind. She’s very well-loved around here.”

Yunho and Changmin exchange incredulous looks.

“Well, if you say so,” Yunho says kindly.

They bid Seohyun goodnight and slide into bed, feeling confused and spoiled. Changmin rolls onto his side and Yunho spoons him from behind, tickling him with feather light touches until Changmin squirms and gasps with laughter.

“Stop that,” he scolds. Yunho smiles and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“She’s pretty weird,” he mumbles into Changmin’s hair before they fall asleep, his mind still on Boa.

“I like her,” Changmin confesses.

“Of course you do, you’re pretty weird too.”

Changmin kicks his shin but it’s without heat. They fall asleep curled around each other, warm and safe for the first time in years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [fanedit by changdeer](http://changdeer.tumblr.com/post/90202661354/song-of-the-golden-eagle-madamteatime-fanfic)


	2. Chapter 2

They are woken at some obscene hour of the morning by a pounding on the door. Yunho rolls upright and stumbles to open it.

“What’s happening?” Changmin mumbles from the bed.

A guard stands outside. He grins at Yunho’s rumpled, half-asleep state.

“Rise and shine pretty boys. You’re joining us for training today.”

“Wha – ?”

Huge, sprawling and prone to attacks from the sea, Castle Kwon housed enough guards to people a small army. Lady Boa required that her men always be battle ready, so every morning they ran drills in the courtyard – and this directive clearly extended to her slaves. Yunho and Changmin are hustled outside, still rubbing sleep from their eyes. The guard who came to fetch them introduces himself as Donghae. He points to a man on the other side of the courtyard, a tall, handsome specimen conducting drills with a group of twenty.

“That’s Siwon, Captain of my lady’s guards. Don’t get on his wrong side,” he says. Yunho eyes the guy – they’re about the same size, though Siwon carries himself with a poise that only comes from good breeding. He rubs his arms in the chill morning air and glances at Changmin.

“Very nice,” Changmin grins, eyeing the Captain in a whole other way. 

Yunho elbows his side.

Donghae leads them over to a ring where men are sparring in pairs with wooden swords. He tosses one to Yunho and faces him.

“Do you have any formal training?” he asks. Yunho measures the unfamiliar weight of the dummy sword in his hand. 

“Nope,” he says, giving it a couple of swings. He knows how to fight, the way any kid who’s had a rough upbringing knows how to fight, but that’s a far cry from swordplay. Briefly, he ponders on the wisdom of teaching slaves to arm themselves, but there’s no way to fathom the way Boa’s mind works. 

Donghae hesitates.

“This is – an unusual occurrence, but my lady gave specific orders for you to train with us. . .”

Changmin looks around. “Are there no other slaves at Castle Kwon?”

“No, of course not,” Donghae frowns. “Lady Boa outlawed slavery in her duchy two years ago.”

Changmin stares at him. Yunho glances down at the sword in his hand.

“I wonder why she bought us then,” he murmurs.

Donghae shrugs. “Perhaps she has some other purpose for you in mind. Or perhaps she was just lonely. But regardless – ” He picks up a wooden sword of his own and points it at Yunho. “Her orders must be obeyed.”

They start with a couple of practice drills, just a series of simple thrusts and parries. Yunho’s technique is awful but Donghae corrects him patiently, fixing his grip and stance after every round. The metal slave collar chafes around his neck, holding him down. 

Changmin retreats to the side and watches them – he doesn’t seem particularly interested in joining in, preferring instead to mock Yunho from the sidelines. 

Yunho shakes sweaty hair out of his eyes and scowls at him.

“How about you do something other than just stand there and look pretty?” he demands. 

Changmin grins. He opens his mouth to reply, but a commotion at the doorway diverts their attention.

Lady Boa strides into the courtyard, clad in a soft tunic belted at the waist, her long raven hair tied back in a bun. She is dwarfed by every man in the vicinity and yet they all fall back respectfully as she walks towards her Captain.

A ripple of anticipation goes through the crowd. The men stop what they’re doing to watch as she and Siwon greet each other with familiar smiles. They talk amicably as a space clears around them. Someone tosses Siwon a wooden sword, and someone else approaches Boa and hands one to her.

“She’s not going to – ” Yunho starts.

“She is,” Changmin says, voice hushed with awe.

Boa is a full head shorter than Siwon, yet no-one seems bothered by the fact that she’s about to face off against a man who towers over her. 

“3 gold coins on Siwon,” a man beside Yunho says. His companion snorts.

“You’re on. I guarantee you my lady is going to kick his ass.”

Boa kicks his ass.

What she lacks in height she makes up in speed, strength and ruthless skill. The Captain is a gifted swordsman, yet his every parry is too slow, and his attacks miss the mark by milliseconds. Boa’s fight is like a dance, choreographed to deadly precision. Within minutes she knocks Siwon’s sword out of his hands, sweeps his legs out from under him and presses the tip of her blade to his throat.

Awe-struck silence falls, and in the quiet Yunho suddenly understands that Seohyun had downplayed the strength of Boa’s rule.

Her people didn’t simply love her.

They worshipped her.

\- - - 

Later that night they find themselves being led to Boa’s private rooms. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Yunho asks her. 

Boa smiles and moves to retrieve something from her side table. “My mother died when I was young and I was my father’s only child. He made sure I learned how to fight because he knew I would have to.” She picks something out of the drawer and turns to them. “Here. I had these made for you.”

She’s holding two collars made of thin, beaten gold. They glimmer in the candlelight, and upon closer inspection appear to be embossed with the picture of an eagle – the sigil of Kwon. Changmin raises an eyebrow.

“Fancy,” he comments.

“I dislike the standard slave collars they’ve given you. These will be lighter and look much nicer,” Boa says.

“I hope you don’t expect us to thank you,” Yunho says flatly. Chains were still chains, regardless of how pretty or expensive. 

Boa’s lips quirk up at the corner. Such insolence would have gotten him hit by their last master, but he’s learning that things are different here. Instead of replying she pulls out a chain from around her neck, at the end of which dangle two keys.

“Kneel,” she orders.

They drop to their knees and she unlocks the iron collars, casting them aside with a clatter, before clasping the new gold collars around their necks. She’s right – they are much lighter. Yunho rubs his neck and can't help but notice how pretty the gold looks against Changmin’s brown skin.

Boa makes an approving sound and moves to take a seat behind her desk. Her private chambers sprawl across a large portion of the castle’s east wing, but her bedroom is, in comparison, small and cozy. A huge four-poster bed and several bookcases take up most of the space, along with a wide oaken desk across one wall. There’s plush red carpet underfoot and large floor-length windows facing the ocean, and a door that leads out to the balcony. A fire crackles cheerfully in the grate.

“How did you find your morning training?” she asks, pouring herself a glass of wine. Yunho has never seen a high-born lady pour her own wine; there should be servants present to serve her, but it’s clear that Boa does things her own way.

“Uh – confusing, actually,” he says. 

“Oh?”

He hesitates and exchanges a glance with Changmin, who shrugs and takes over. 

“We don’t understand why you would train your slaves in combat,” Changmin says bluntly.

Boa smiles at him over the rim of her glass and doesn’t reply.

They get used to asking things and receiving no answers. She asks them detailed questions about their own lives and yet gives away nothing in return. And every night, without fail, she asks them the same question: “Why did you kill Lord Emir?” 

Every night, they reply with denials and half-truths.

“He died of poison my lady. The chamberlain did it.”

“He was killed by an assassin from the south.”

“He died of natural causes in his sleep. You were misinformed.”

Eventually, when it becomes clear that Boa has no interest in bedding them or indeed using them for any of the purposes pleasure slaves are usually used for, they start asking her a question in response.

“Why did you buy us?” Yunho counters her nightly inquiry. Boa pauses, then smiles.

“Perhaps I was lonely,” she says. Yunho gives her a disbelieving look and her smile becomes a grin, mischievous and genuine. It makes her look painfully young, and Yunho remembers that she is only 22, the same age as himself.

The guards have no answers for them either, the Lady Boa’s motivations as much of a mystery to them as they are to Yunho and Changmin. As the weeks pass Yunho strikes up a close friendship with Donghae and he introduces them to his family – his wife Yoona, who works as a kitchen maid, and their two children. They have a small house in the village at the base of Castle Kwon and one night, after asking permission from the Lady, Donghae takes them home with him for dinner. 

Surprisingly, Seohyun is in the kitchen with Yoona when they arrive.

“I’m her sister,” she explains cheerfully.

Dinner is a relaxed, familial affair, the first one they’ve come across since they left Bylyn. Before, at the hands of Lord Emir, they had spent too much time in chains or locked away in his rooms to make many friends. Yunho drops his guard and, seeing him, Changmin relaxes too and just enjoys the company.

After dinner they put the children to bed and settle around the fireplace with drinks. Changmin leans against Yunho, warm and happy, and Yunho wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close.

The conversation inevitably turns to their mistress, the beautiful and mysterious Lady Boa. Donghae laughs when Changmin comments that she has a mind like a viper and a will made of steel.

“Of course she does. She has to, otherwise the men wouldn’t respect her. It’s not easy being a woman in a position of power,” he says.

“Was she always like that?” Yunho asks.

There’s a contemplative silence. “Losing her father was very hard on her,” Yoona says eventually. “Before that my lady was. . .different.”

“Well before that she had a family,” Donghae points out.

“She still has her uncle,” Yoona says darkly.

“I hate that man,” Seohyun bursts out. Yunho blinks – it’s a strangely vehement reaction from such a soft-spoken girl. 

“Why?” he asks. “What did he do?”

Donghae grimaces. “Baron Athmos is not a likeable man. There were rumors after Lord Kwon died of his involvement – ”

“Let’s not speak of it anymore,” his wife cuts him off. They exchange a meaningful look and Donghae falls silent.

Yunho glances at Changmin and sees a thoughtful look on his face that mirrors his own stirring suspicions. 

They don’t mention the topic again for the rest of the night.

\- - -

“You want us to kill someone for you, don’t you,” Changmin says one night. 

He and Yunho are lounging on the bed while Boa writes something at her desk. She had told them to make themselves comfortable and now, after a month in her possession, they find that they actually can. She stops writing and looks up at him, one eyebrow raised.

“That’s why you keep asking us about Lord Emir,” Changmin continues. “And why you’re making us train with the guards.”

Boa puts her pen down and just looks at him for a second. Then she rises from her chair with a sigh and goes to the window.

“After my father died,” she says. “There were many people interested in taking Kwon for themselves. People advised me to give up my claim – I was just a young girl, they said. It was over my head. I should give control of the duchy to someone older and wiser and male, or I should marry such a person and give control to him. One of those people was my uncle, Baron Athmos.” 

Boa crosses her arms over her chest. A breeze ruffles her hair, shifting the dark strands across her face. She looks small and delicate and impossibly commanding.

“I was nineteen the first time my uncle tried to have me assassinated,” she says. “He felt, I think, that the duchy was rightfully his and I was merely in the way. It was a year after that when I realised he had tried the same with my father, and that in his case he had succeeded.”

Yunho sucks in a breath. Boa turns to face them and her eyes are dark and hard as flint.

“I bought you because I needed the protection, because there are places where my guards cannot be but where it is acceptable for me to keep slaves. And if those slaves had a history of killing cruel men, well then – that was just the cherry on top.”

Silence falls. Yunho reaches down carefully and takes Changmin’s hand and thinks _at least I am not alone against this world_ and feels, for the first time, a measure of sympathy for their new mistress. Boa looks at their clasped hands, then back at his face.

“Will you tell me about Lord Emir now?” she asks softly. 

Yunho sighs. He rises up on his knees and caresses the small of Changmin’s back, who is still lying on his stomach regarding Boa silently.

“What would you like to know?” he asks. Boa shrugs.

“Everything. I know he can’t have been a kind master. Did he rape you?”

She says it in such a matter-of-fact way that it makes Yunho jolt in surprise. He sees Changmin shift and bites his lip.

“No. He was old and impotent for the most part. He liked to – watch us,” Yunho says falteringly. “But his main pleasures lay elsewhere. In inflicting pain. He would strike us for small offenses. We had no previous training as slaves so at first we got hit a lot. He would chain us to his bed or the wall for days without food. He – ” Yunho breaks off and swallows. It’s hard to talk about this now and remember how helpless they had felt then, in a new place with new rules and no hope of escape. Changmin curls towards him, his eyes dark and wide, and presses his cheek to Yunho’s knee.

Boa clears her throat and goes to the sideboard to pour them drinks.

“Here. It’ll help,” she says, and Yunho swallows a huge gulp of wine. It sears like fire down his throat and he gasps.

“Let’s move on,” Boa says briskly, and Yunho realises this is her way of dealing with uncomfortable topics, through calmness and practicality. “To why you killed him. Although it’s clear that by the time you did it you had more than enough motive.”

Yunho meets Changmin’s eyes. He sees the dawning realisation there and Changmin rises up on his knees quickly and shakes his head.

“No – ” he says softly, and Yunho strokes his cheek.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay baby.” 

Carefully, he pulls Changmin’s shirt up and off and Changmin buries his face in Yunho’s shoulder, his cheeks aflame with distress.

A tapestry of long, thin scars crisscross over the expanse of Changmin’s back – the lingering evidence of a cruel beating, one that could have only been administered by a whip designed to cut through flesh. The scars are difficult to see in the dim light, but Boa draws closer and touches one carefully and feels the welt under her fingers. She sucks in a breath. 

A long silence follows, in which Yunho tightens his arm around Changmin’s waist and levels Boa with a blank, fierce look.

“And what crime did Changmin commit to earn such a beating?” she asks quietly.

Yunho takes hold of Changmin’s chin and turns his face towards her. “Look at him,” he says. “He committed the crime of beauty. He caught the eye of a visiting Lord and the man offered to buy him – but Lord Emir became convinced that Changmin must have done something to encourage him. He had Changmin flogged within an inch of his life and then presented to the Lord, broken and bleeding and unconscious. Naturally the man left without mentioning it again.”

Changmin makes a small sound and wrenches his face out of Yunho’s grip. He’s trembling and wide-eyed and Yunho knows the topic has brought up things he would rather forget. He strokes his hair and murmurs in his ear, soft words of comfort to try and make Changmin’s trembling subside. 

Boa leans against her desk and stares into the liquid depths of her wine glass. 

“How did you kill him?” she asks. 

Yunho desperately wants to end this conversation now so he talks fast. “Lord Emir would sometimes send for us at night. He liked to watch us get off – or sometimes he would order us to fuck each other in front of him. One night he let us sleep at the foot of his bed and forgot to chain us. I waited until he was asleep and then suffocated him with his pillow. It was easy – he was old and not particularly strong. Changmin never woke. We were blamed for it, of course, but since there was no evidence they couldn’t kill us and so sold us back to the slavers.”

From Changmin’s uneven breathing at his side he can tell that he is seconds away from a full-blown panic attack. Yunho clutches at him and looks at Boa. “Please – ”

“You may go,” she says, and Yunho practically picks Changmin up and pulls him from the room. 

\- - -

Back in their own rooms Yunho sits Changmin down on the bed and kisses him and strokes his face and calls his name softly until that blank, dead look goes from Changmin’s eyes and he can breathe normally again. 

It’s not the first time it’s happened – part of the reason they had refused to discuss Lord Emir with Boa was because of the visceral reaction Changmin has to the memory of his beating. Yunho shudders as he recalls the sound of his screams, remembers straining against his own chains and begging them to stop until he was hoarse. He still has the scars on his wrists from where the metal bit into his skin.

Changmin blinks and covers the hand Yunho is using to cup his cheek.

“Yunho?” he says.

Yunho swallows and gives him a wobbly smile. “Hey,” he breathes. “There you are.”

“I kind of – blanked out didn’t I,” Changmin says.

“Yeah,” Yunho presses their forehead together. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have – ”

“It’s okay,” Changmin says. “It’s good – I’m glad you told her.”

They stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing each other’s air and sinking into that warm, safe place where the world fades and it’s just the two of them. Yunho fits a hand around Changmin’s neck and strokes the warm skin above the gold collar with the pad of his thumb.

There’s a knock on the door and the moment splinters. Yunho looks up.

“Come in,” he calls.

Seohyun enters the room wearing a concerned look and holding a steaming mug.

“Are you okay?” she asks Changmin. Changmin rubs a hand over his face and nods.

“Yeah – wait, how did you. . .?”

“Lady Boa sent for me,” Seohyun smiles and holds the mug out. “Here. She had it made specially for you.”

Some warm brown drink is inside the glass. Changmin takes a sip and his eyes widen.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s called cocoa – one of my lady’s suitors brought some back from the eastern highlands and gifted it to her. It’s mixed with warm milk and some spices.”

Yunho sniffs the concoction, then takes a tentative sip when Changmin offers the mug to him. A rich, sweet taste floods his mouth and he makes a pleased sound.

“It must be very expensive,” he says. 

Seohyun nods and smiles. “My lady must have done something to upset you greatly if she felt the need to apologise this way.”

Yunho laughs softly and watches Changmin bury his nose in the cocoa drink. 

“Something like that.” 

They finish the drink together, offering sips to Seohyun until it’s all gone. Changmin smiles and thanks her and she cheekily replies that she’s just the messenger and that he should thank Boa.

After she leaves they prepare for bed. Changmin curls up under the covers and watches Yunho change into his night clothes.

“It must get lonely,” he says. 

“Hm?” Yunho pulls the blanket up and slides in. 

“For Boa,” Changmin clarifies. “I wonder why she refuses to marry.”

“Probably just hasn’t met the right person yet,” Yunho says sleepily. “Not everyone is lucky enough to find their soulmate at seven.”

“True.” Changmin smiles and curls around him, his head coming to rest on Yunho’s chest. He traces the curve of Yunho’s pectoral visible through the thin material of his night shirt until Yunho captures his hand and presses kisses to it. Their fingers thread together.

They fall asleep like that, hands tangled and breathing synced.


	3. Chapter 3

Yunho wakes in the middle of the night to a snuffling coming from beside him. He rubs his eyes and glances to the side. Changmin must have rolled off him at some point and is now curled up with his back to him. 

The noise comes again, a sound like a stifled sob, and Yunho sits up.

“Changmin?” he rasps. He lights a candle, then leans over him and touches Changmin’s cheek. His fingers come away wet with tears – but Changmin’s eyes are closed, and he shifts in his sleep and gasps. Yunho shakes his shoulder. 

“Changmin. Wake up,” he says softly.

“No. . .” Changmin moans and thrashes. His hand shoots out, clutching at empty air. “Mama,” he whimpers.

Yunho’s heart sinks. Changmin is dreaming of the raid, the fire and steel razing their village to the ground and taking their families with it. Yunho shakes him harder.

“Wake up!” he calls. 

Changmin jerks awake with a surprised sound. He stares up at Yunho with red-rimmed eyes and feels his wet face.

“I was dreaming,” he says.

“Yes.”

They don’t say any more – both of them are intimately aware of the things that haunt Changmin’s sleep. Yunho wonders sometimes why he never has nightmares of the raid and thinks it might be because he has buried it so deep inside himself even his subconscious can’t access it. But Changmin’s pain remains loosely buried, always ready to surface when his guards are down. 

He reaches blindly for Yunho and Yunho kisses him, first his lips, then all the tear tracks on his cheeks, and then the hollow of his temple. He remembers the first few months after they became orphans, remembers Changmin crying himself to sleep every night.

“Don’t cry,” Yunho would whisper to him. “I’ll be your mama now.”

“You can’t be my mama,” Changmin would say around hiccupping sobs. “I have to grow up and marry you. How can I marry you if you’re my mama?”

Yunho had floundered at this logic. “Well – you don’t _have_ to marry me,” he’d say. 

“No I have to marry you,” Changmin would insist. “Because if I don’t marry you someone else will marry you and I don’t want anyone else to marry you. So it has to be me.”

Yunho couldn’t think of any objection to that, and at least Changmin had gotten distracted enough to stop crying, so he had smiled and agreed.

Over a decade later he gazes down into Changmin’s tear-bright eyes and knows that even though they can never be married such paltry institutions pale in comparison to what they do have – a connection so binding he can’t even put a name to it. 

Changmin’s arms loop around his neck and pull Yunho down on top of him and then they’re kissing, wet and deep and exquisite. Yunho shifts and Changmin makes a low sound into his mouth, something halfway between a gasp and a moan, as their hips press together under the covers. The remnants of his dream fade and leave the slow ache of desire behind and Yunho grinds down against him, intent on hearing more of those sweet, eager whimpers spill from Changmin’s mouth. 

Yunho’s lips leave his and trail to his ear, nibbling on the soft lobe, and Changmin clutches at his back and arches up.

“Yunho, please,” he gasps, trembling and breathless. He tugs on Yunho’s shirt and Yunho rises up on his knees and pulls it off. Changmin’s hands slide up his chest, his touch hot and possessive, his gaze dark with want in the flickering light of the candle. His lips part and Yunho kisses him again, heart thumping double time. They undress each other and press together, naked skin against skin. Yunho buries his face in Changmin’s neck and silently curses the golden collar that obstructs his beautiful throat from his kisses. Changmin sighs and shifts his head to give him better access, toes curling against the sheets.

“Need you,” he breathes. Yunho raises his head and gropes under his pillow for the tiny bottle of oil he stashed there in case of emergencies and, seeing this, Changmin laughs softly and rolls onto his side. He flings one leg over Yunho’s waist and Yunho turns back to him and pulls him closer. He can smell the musky heat of Changmin's arousal, feel his erection pressed eagerly against his stomach. They kiss as Yunho strokes his thigh and trails his hands lower, slicked fingers finding his entrance and pushing inside slowly. Changmin gasps and throws his head back, hand curling in Yunho’s hair. His hips work, riding the fingers inside him, eyes closed and lips parted in bliss. Yunho catches his breath at the sight of him.

“Gods. . .” he bites down on Changmin’s shoulder and Changmin groans. He pushes Yunho onto his back and straddles him. Yunho’s fingers slip out of him and Changmin grasps his erection and sinks down on him with a gasp. It’s a dance they’ve perfected after years of lovemaking; the way Changmin clenches around him is so familiar and precious, the heat of him like finding his way home. He stretches out over Yunho and kisses him as they start to move.

Dim candlelight flickers over them and throws shadows on the wall, the blurred outline of two bodies becoming one. They’re quiet – Yunho closes his eyes and just feels, feels Changmin move on top of him, hears his tiny gasping moans and labored breath in his ear. 

“Close,” Changmin whimpers, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking. 

Yunho rises up on his knees, hands on Changmin’s back to steady him as the younger man goes sprawling against him with a groan. He rides Yunho with mindless urgency and Yunho snaps his hips up to meet him. His hands slide down to clench on Changmin’s ass and spread him wider. 

“ _Oh_ ,” Changmin shudders, then cries out as Yunho pushes in a finger alongside his cock. He slides a hand in Yunho’s hair and presses their foreheads together.

“Oh – Changminnie – ” Yunho groans.

“Please – ”

Yunho tugs his lower lip between his teeth and clutches his hip with his free hand. Changmin tumbles back against the bed and Yunho follows him down, covering his body and fucking into him at a brutal pace that has Changmin crying out and unravelling under him. His fingers dig into Yunho's back, head thrashing, lips swollen red. Yunho kisses him and murmurs nonsense endearments into his mouth and moments later Changmin orgasms with a silent scream. His head goes back, spine arched in a perfect bow, and Yunho moans and follows him over the edge, coating Changmin’s insides with come.

They curl together and Yunho kisses Changmin’s cheek, his shoulder, the sweaty hollow of his throat. He slips out of him with regret and inhales the scent of sweat and sex that clings to them. 

“Okay?” Yunho asks into his hair.

“Mm.” Changmin’s eyes are closed, his hand gently stroking Yunho’s chest. 

They are both asleep again within seconds.

\- - -

The next morning Donghae makes a sly remark about how Changmin seems a little stiff and Changmin blushes to the tips of his ears.

Yunho kicks Donghae’s butt.

“Come on, stop stalling,” he says. They’re practicing with real swords today – Yunho has gotten exponentially better since that first day, and Changmin, though less enthusiastic about learning how to hit things, has become an accomplished fighter in a surprisingly short amount of time. He’s one of those lazily talented people – gifted but not driven to do much about it.

His main interests lie elsewhere.

“Do you know how to read?” Boa asks when she catches him in her drawing room one afternoon, fingers hovering over the spine of her books. Changmin jolts in surprise – he hadn’t heard her come in – and shoots her a guilty look. Slaves weren’t allowed to own books; most servants couldn’t even read.

“I – yes. A little.”

Boa pulls out a slim volume and hands it to him.

“Read to me,” she says. 

Changmin reads, haltingly at first, then with more confidence as the words start to flow together. Boa stops him after a while and looks at him contemplatively. Changmin shifts under her gaze. He can hear Yunho and Donghae through the open window, down in the courtyard laughing and doing something with the horses. 

“Where did you learn to read?” Boa asks him. 

Changmin blinks. “I taught myself,” he says. “I stole a book from a lady in Bylyn. One of the kitchen maids knew some of the letters and I sort of figured out the rest on my own.”

Boa goes to the window and stares down into the courtyard. “And did you teach Yunho too?” she asks.

“Yes. Well – ” A smile flickers across Changmin’s mouth. “I tried, but he wasn’t particularly interested in learning more than the basics.”

Boa laughs softly. “But you were.”

Changmin nods. He’s not sure where this is going, until Boa starts to leave the room and beckons him to follow her. They wander down a hallway on the ground floor of the west wing. Sunlight floods in from windows set high in the walls and dust motes dance through the rays. It’s clear this area is little-used. 

There’s a carved wooden door at the end of the hallway. Boa pushes it open and Changmin follows her inside – and stops on the threshold. 

A huge library lies within, every inch of wall space covered in bookshelves. Some of the books on them are so old their spines are peeling. Huge stacks of them lie everywhere in a disordered mess. The scent of dust and paper is overwhelming.

Boa smiles at the awe-struck look on his face.

“My father liked to collect books but he wasn’t very good at organising them. I’d ask one of the servants to do it but they’d just put them everywhere with no semblance of order.” She watches Changmin step into the room and trail his hand over a desk beside the door. His fingers come away dark with dust. “If you clean up this place and categorise everything you’re welcome to read whatever you want. Organise them however you see fit, and if you need help moving any of the bookcases I’m sure I can find someone.” 

Changmin stares at her. “Truly?”

He’s never been given such complete control over something, not even something as small as a room full of books. Boa laughs at his surprise.

“Well I’m certainly not going to do it. Being surrounded by a bunch of dusty old books isn’t really my idea of a good time.”

Changmin thinks he could die happy surrounded by a bunch of dusty old books, but he says nothing.

Later, Yunho finds him curled up on the room’s lone chaise, nose buried in a volume of poetry. After night fell Changmin had lit candles to read by and in their flickering light Yunho appears to almost glow. He’s freshly bathed and in a cheerful mood as he bounces over to Changmin and wraps his arms around his neck from behind. 

“Whatchu reading?” he asks, propping his chin up on Changmin’s shoulder. Changmin smiles and flips to the cover. Yunho squints at the title. “Poetry? How boring.”

“It’s not boring.” Changmin tugs him down beside him and curls up with his head on Yunho’s shoulder. He smells clean and musky and Changmin smiles as Yunho’s arm automatically wraps around his shoulders. He holds up the book to the page he was reading.

“It’s omniscient, see? There’s a poem for every moment of your life; love, death, pain, joy. When you think something has happened to you that nobody will ever understand and you find a poem about it, written by someone you’ve never met – it’s like a revelation. It puts human experience into perspective.”

Changmin pauses, thinking he probably sounds crazy. He gives Yunho a hesitant look but Yunho is watching him with a little smile on his face. 

“What?” Changmin says, a little defensively. Yunho’s smile widens into a grin.

“You’re cute,” he says. 

Flustered, Changmin puts the book aside and starts to rise, but Yunho pulls him back down and nuzzles against his cheek.

“So cute,” he murmurs, and kisses him. Changmin makes a sound against his lips.

“We have to join Boa for dinner,” he reminds Yunho.

“Mm we have some time,” Yunho cups his face and smiles against his mouth and, helpless, Changmin melts against him and kisses back.


	4. Chapter 4

“Tell me what you know of the war,” Boa says to them one night. She’s examining a large map on her desk.

They exchange a look, then Changmin yawns and falls back on her bed.

“You take this one,” he says to Yunho. They’d gone riding that day and every inch of him aches.

Yunho joins Boa at the desk and stares down at the map with her. His fingers tap a city in the south – Bylyn – then trail upwards to a city marked on the northern edge.

“Corton,” he says. “Capital of the north and seat of the royal family. King Asril attacked Bylyn five years ago over a land dispute. The south fell soon afterwards.”

Boa’s taps a thoughtful finger against her chin. “It’s unfortunate that long years of prosperity and peace had made the southern lords so complacent; perhaps they wouldn’t have fallen so quickly otherwise.”

“And if the north hadn’t used armies of slaves to do their dirty work,” Yunho says, a little severely. 

Boa makes a non-committal sound and taps an area south of Kwon. “Nacios,” she says. “My Uncle’s barony.” Her finger draws a line from Nacios, to Kwon, to Corton. “You’ll notice that Kwon stands between Nacios and Corton. An extremely strategic position; especially if my uncle wants to attack the capital.”

Yunho stares at her. “Why would he do that?”

“Many of the northern lords feel that their efforts in winning the south were not justly rewarded; they wanted new lands but King Asril let the southern lords keep most of their estates. I personally couldn’t care less – Kwon had no part in the war. But discontent festers amongst the nobility. I fear my uncle’s ambition. His supporters are powerful and many.” Boa crosses her arms over her chest and frowns down at the map. “He wants Kwon for more than simply greed. It would be an important stronghold in any campaign against the King – but he knows that I would refuse to aid him.”

“Are you saying,” Changmin sits up slowly. “That the only thing standing between this country and civil war – is you?”

Boa gives him a dark, glittering look.

“The King is my cousin and a good man,” she says. “I have no wish to see him deposed. Which makes my survival more crucial than ever – especially since I have no heir.”

“Why don’t you just get married?” Changmin says frankly. “It seems like it would solve all your problems. I’m sure you have plenty of suitors.”

Boa grins. “I have suitors aplenty,” she says. “But unfortunately none who haven’t already been bought by my uncle. Marrying one of them would be tantamount to giving him control.”

Changmin sighs and flops back down on the bed. “Well then I have no other solutions for you. I guess we’ll just have to try and keep you alive.”

“I guess you will,” Boa smiles, but her gaze is assessing as she meets Yunho’s eye. 

\- - -

They end up talking late into the night. Yunho has never really studied the politics of the country before; Boa gives him a crash course and in turn finds his insights thoughtful and intelligent. Changmin listens quietly and absorbs everything but offers few comments.

Towards dawn he falls asleep atop the covers of Boa’s bed, hair falling over his face and lips slightly parted. Yunho gazes out the window and notes with surprise that the sky outside has lightened.

“Wow,” he yawns. “I didn’t realise it was so late.”

Boa looks up and rubs a crick in her neck. “Ah – it’s morning.” She watches Yunho go over to Changmin and tug the covers over him. Changmin stirs, murmuring something in his sleep, then settles when Yunho kisses his cheek. Boa smiles at Yunho when he turns back to her. “Let’s take a walk,” she says.

Yunho blinks. “Now?”

“Nothing like watching the sunrise from the battlements.” 

They climb onto the castle ramparts and stare out at the ocean crashing against the rocks below. A breeze ruffles their clothes. Yunho leans against the railing and watches Boa watch the sea. She looks pensive, as though trying to reason out a complex problem.

“My lack of heir is of constant concern to me,” she confesses finally. “It seems too fragile a thing, to have the fate of the country balanced on one life. A war would solve nothing, only create new sorrows.”

Yunho makes a sound of agreement, but it appears Boa isn’t done speaking just yet.

“I’d do anything to stop my uncle from gaining control of Kwon,” she says quietly, fiercely. “Not after what he did to father. Not after he tried to have me killed.” 

Yunho licks his lips hesitantly.

“Why are you telling me all this?” He asks, a sudden suspicion stirring in the back of his mind.

The rising sun spreads sleepy rays across the sky, lighting Boa’s raven hair gold. She turns to him and tilts her head.

“Because,” she says. “I want you to marry me.”

As proposals go it’s abrupt, unromantic and incredibly business-like. Yunho stares at her and tries to process what he just heard.

“A slave may not marry a free woman, let alone a noblewoman,” he says carefully.

“I know that,” Boa says. “This is my backup plan, in case things go wrong. Marriage is a bargain, is it not? This is the bargain I’m proposing to you: marry me, and I will ensure that if I die you and Changmin become free men. Marry me and my estates will pass to you the moment you are no longer a slave; instead you will be Lord of Kwon.”

Yunho can’t process it. He rubs at his temple. “Your definition of marriage leaves something to be desired,” he mutters. 

“Do we have a deal?” Boa asks. 

“I can’t,” Yunho shakes his head. “This is – an incredibly generous offer but Boa, I can’t marry you. Changmin – ”

“Yes,” Boa says softly. “Changmin. You should think of Changmin when making this decision. In the event of my death you would have only two paths before you: stay and become the property of Baron Athmos, or get sent back to the slavers, back to be bought by another Lord Emir. In neither of these options would you be able to protect Changmin from whatever fate awaits you.”

Yunho’s hands clench on the railing. She’s right and they both know it. 

“Why me?” he asks helplessly. Boa gives him a cool, assessing look.

“My uncle has spies everywhere. There’s nobody else I can trust with this. Everyone has their own agendas, and families who they might tell; but you and Changmin have only each other. Besides, it has to be a slave. Any free man I marry would have an immediate claim on my duchy and I wouldn’t trust him not to meddle.”

Yunho shakes his head. “No I mean – why me? Why not Changmin?” He laughs slightly. “Don’t you like him?”

Boa stares out at the ocean for a long time, contemplating her answer. Yunho watches her and waits; around them, the world starts to stir awake.

“I like Changmin just fine,” she says finally. “But he would’ve said no. Money, war, status – these things mean nothing to him as long as he has you, and by marrying me he might lose you. But you. . .you I wasn’t sure about.” She gives Yunho a sidelong glance. “You have ambition and good judgement, the qualities of leadership. You know what happens during a war; only the innocent die. And you think of Changmin before you think of yourself. You’d do anything to protect him – even kill a man.”

Yunho stares, breathless at how perfectly she’s perceived them. All those needling, personal questions suddenly make sense now – she’s been planning this for a while. And he understands suddenly that, like any well-laid plan, it can have only one conclusion. He would be insane not to agree.

Yunho licks his suddenly dry lips. 

“Okay,” he says softly. “I’ll do it.”

Boa’s whole stance changes. She smiles and claps her hands in delight. “Really?”

Yunho eyes her carefully. “Yes but – let’s just make one thing clear. This is a marriage of convenience and nothing more. So no funny stuff.”

Boa laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself. Besides, is a marriage anything but convenience.”

Yunho watches her as she turns back to gaze out at the ocean. She looks satisfied, but it’s the satisfaction of a strategy coming to fruition and nothing more. She doesn’t appear to derive any happiness from the prospect of being married.

“Marriage is not just a bargain or for convenience,” Yunho says after a while. “It’s a bond between two people, a promise to love each other until the end of time. I would’ve married Changmin ten years ago if it was possible. And I hope – I sincerely hope – that one day you find that bond with someone, because it will save your life.”

Boa gives him an indulgent smile. “That’s sweet,” she says. “Idealistic, but sweet.”

Yunho sighs. He reaches over and takes her hand. “Well, regardless. I’m honoured, and I promise to be the best husband I can to you.”

Boa grins and squeezes his hand. “I know you will. Now come on, let’s tell Changmin. You may have to protect me from his wrath.” 

\- - -

Changmin’s anger is a slow burn of fury. 

He listens to them in stony silence when they explain themselves, and when Yunho kisses him and asks him if he’s mad he shakes his head. There is no ceremony, no rings; quietly, Boa has the marriage papers drawn up, and quietly, in the privacy of her room with Donghae, Seohyun and Changmin as witnesses, she and Yunho sign them.

At first Changmin seems fine. But then as the days pass he grows increasingly agitated, prone to angry outbursts and bouts of extended brooding. He sequesters himself in the library and refuses to listen to Yunho’s pleading for him to try and understand. 

“There’s no point sulking about it,” Boa says to him one night. She’s entertaining guests from a nearby estate and, in a rare show of femininity, has donned a gown of gold and red silk. She’s sitting at her dressing table while Seohyun does her hair. “It’s done.”

Changmin stops his agitated pacing to glare at her. “I can’t believe you decided this without consulting me,” he hisses.

Boa raises an eyebrow. “I already knew you would hate the idea. It was Yunho I was unsure about, so I asked him.”

Furious, Changmin flings himself down on her bed and chews his lip. Boa looks at him in the mirror.

“Putting a metaphorical ring on his finger hardly makes him mine. Not where it counts,” she says quietly. 

“But it does,” Changmin grinds out. “Don’t you understand? It makes him doubly yours – first as your slave and now as your husband. And I – ” He rises and slams an anguished fist against the wall, making Seohyun jump. “I have nothing of his.”

Boa says nothing. 

“This is all my fault,” Changmin mutters. “I practically gifted you the idea. ‘Why don’t you just get married,’” he mimics himself derisively. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Boa says. “I’ve had this idea for a while – since before I even bought you. I just had to find the right slave for the job.”

The door opens and Yunho enters, as if on cue. 

“Your guests are here,” he says. 

Boa looks around at him and smiles. She rises in a whisper of silk; Seohyun has piled her hair atop her head and ringlets curl out to frame her face. Rubies glisten at her throat.

Yunho blinks. “You look nice,” he says. “You should wear dresses more often.”

“Thank you. But I think I much prefer wearing the pants in this relationship,” Boa grins at him.

Changmin seethes. Betrayal and anger well up inside him and burst, demanding immediate action. He waits for Boa and Seohyun to leave before twisting a hand in Yunho’s shirt and yanking him forward into a harsh kiss. 

“I want to fuck you,” Changmin says, tone petulant. Yunho stills.

“Jealousy does not become you,” he says quietly.

“Like I fucking care.” Changmin yanks him down on the bed and kisses him again, hot and angry. “I want to fuck you right here, in her bed.”

Yunho groans. Heat shivers up his spine as Changmin grinds down against him. It’s wrong – they shouldn’t do this here – but he also knows that if he refuses now Changmin will not let him forget it. Some desperate, jealous rage consumes Changmin and he claws at him, ripping Yunho’s shirt in his urgency to get it off. They had hurt each other before – it was impossible not to, after they were sold – but they had always comforted each other with the knowledge that it was unwilling. This, though – this Yunho had chosen. And although Changmin understands the pragmatic reasoning behind it he feels the betrayal in the core of his being.

He presses Yunho into the bed and bruises his mouth with kisses, sinks his nails in Yunho’s chest and marks him with red lines. He wants to mark every inch of Yunho’s skin, to remind Boa and the world who he truly belongs to. They fumble at each other, undressing in a frantic rush, and Changmin rolls them and traps Yunho under him. He rises up on his knees, naked and flushed, and Yunho gazes helplessly up at him and thumbs his hip with one hand. An angry Changmin is always magnificent, but a Changmin bent on marking his territory is nothing short of deadly. 

“Baby please – ” Yunho starts. 

“No.” Changmin’s chest rises and falls harshly, his nipples tight and beaded. His mouth glistens soft and red from their kisses.

“You have nothing to prove – ”

“Oh but I do,” Changmin squeezes Yunho’s chest, pinching his nipples until Yunho cries out and bucks up, flushed and panting for it. Changmin hunches over him. “I do. You’re mine.” He takes Yunho’s lower lip between his teeth and tugs. “You’re mine. They can claim your body but your heart and soul are mine.”

With one hand on Yunho’s chest to hold him down he yanks open the side table and rummages inside. He emerges with a bottle of massage oil and pops the cap. Changmin upturns the bottle onto his hand, impatient and careless in his urgency, and oil spills onto Yunho’s chest. Yunho gasps – Changmin pushes his thighs apart and lowers his fingers, and Yunho moans as he rubs at him before pushing inside.

“Ah!” he throws his head back, the tendons of his neck straining, cheeks pink and hair wrecked. The sight of him is intoxicating and lights something fierce and possessive in Changmin. Yunho thrashes and starts to rise up but Changmin pushes him back down and hitches one leg onto his shoulder before shoving three fingers into him. Yunho cries out, then tightens and grinds down against him.

“Fuck – your cock, give me your cock,” he pleads. Changmin pulls his fingers out and palms himself briefly, biting his lip at the hot slick of the oil on his cock. He lines himself up, pushing slowly until the head sinks past the first ring of muscle. Yunho groans, long and low, his hands clenching in the sheets, and jerks as Changmin sheathes himself completely.

Sweat rolls down Changmin’s side as he holds himself still, tries to hold himself back from the edge and the sweet, delicious oblivion of being inside Yunho. He presses both hands on the bed, on either side of Yunho’s head, and Yunho leans up to nip at his lips.

“Fuck me,” he breathes. Changmin groans.

He pulls back and shoves back in, head spinning with the heat and tightness around his cock, with the scent and taste of Yunho surrounding him. Yunho makes a choked sound and urges him to go faster and Changmin _fucks_ , hard and unforgiving and desperate. 

Yunho falls apart in his arms, his initial reluctance quickly giving way to lust and need. His cock lies hard and weeping against his stomach and he reaches down to stroke himself, crying out as Changmin finds that spot and pounds against it mercilessly. 

“Please,” Yunho moans. “Please please please – ” it forms an incoherent litany until Changmin leans down and swallows the words, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him. The gold collar around his throat chafes with sweat and Yunho thrashes, his pleas reduced to loud, meaningless, urgent sounds. Changmin makes no attempt to silence him – he wants to be heard, wants everyone to know what they’re doing and where they’re doing it. He drives into Yunho relentlessly, splitting him open, and Yunho clings to his shoulders and holds on. 

Changmin bites at his throat, just above the collar, and Yunho opens his eyes and stares up at the canopy of Boa’s bed. Satin sheets bunch under his fingers and he accidentally kicks a pillow to the floor. Changmin’s weight presses him down, the scent of him everywhere and all Yunho can think is _yours I’m yours I’m yours_ over and over until his mind goes blank and he orgasms with a choked scream. He clenches down on Changmin as cum joins the oil striping their bodies and Changmin gasps. He slows, and Yunho whines unhappily when Changmin pulls out of him.

Panting and loose from orgasm, Yunho watches helplessly as Changmin drops his leg from his shoulder and opens his eyes. He looks pained, tears glimmering at the edge of his vision.

“I hate that you married someone else,” Changmin whispers. 

Yunho closes his eyes and swallows. Changmin’s anger he can deal with – but this, this quiet, acute pain – this he can’t handle. 

“I’m sorry,” Yunho whispers. “I love you.”

Changmin wraps both hands around his cock and strokes and Yunho stares up at him pleadingly, trying to make him understand.

“Say it again,” Changmin whispers. Yunho tries to focus around the blur of tears.

“I love you,” he gasps. “Only you – ah!” 

Changmin’s thumb swipes over the head of his cock. He straddles Yunho’s chest and Yunho throws his head back, and its this blatant, eager offering that finally pushes Changmin over the edge. He comes in a great rush, splattering Yunho’s neck and chest with seed. Changmin makes a satisfied sound and squeezes himself one last time before letting go.

They pant against each other for a few long minutes until footsteps sound from outside. Changmin rolls upright and yanks his clothes on, rumpled and back-to-front, and opens the door even while Yunho is still scrambling to clothe himself.

Boa stands outside. Her lips part, shocked gaze taking in the state of her room in one quick glance. 

Changmin shoves past her and can’t find it within himself to give a single fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

Boa doesn’t speak to him for a week. 

She assigns Changmin to longer, tougher training and forces him to take the night watch on the castle walls and then, frozen and sleep-deprived, sends him to do morning drills with the guards. Changmin knows she’s punishing him for fucking Yunho in her bed but he can’t bring himself to care. In response he fucks Yunho again – this time in their own bed – and sends him back to her covered in bite marks and bruises; it’s a petty, pointless revenge but at least it makes him feel good. 

Boa rolls her eyes when she sees Yunho.

“It this supposed to bother me?” she asks, handing Yunho some healing salve for a nasty-looking bite on his neck. Yunho frowns and dabs at the spot gently.

“I don’t think logic plays a big part in Changmin’s sense of betrayal.”

Boa sighs. “I wish you could make him understand.”

“Trust me I’ve tried. And frankly I’m tired of being caught between the two of you. You need to talk it out and just apologise to each other.”

“I’ve got nothing to apologise for – ” Boa starts to object.

Yunho slams the cream down. “Yes you do!” he bursts out. “You asked me to marry you with no warning and no consideration for Changmin’s feelings, as though the practical advantages would somehow outweigh how deeply it would hurt him to see me marry another person. We both know it means nothing but how can he know that when you made this decision behind his back? Just because you’re made of ice doesn’t mean the rest of us are too.”

Yunho knows he’s gone too far the second Boa’s expression darkens and she turns away from him. He hesitates, already feeling apologetic for what he just blurted out, and reaches for her shoulder. Boa stiffens.

“Get out,” she says. 

“I didn’t – ”

“Out!” she snaps, and Yunho turns away with a sigh.

As he leaves he hears her speak from inside.

“Siwon,” she snaps to the guard on duty. “Get in here. We need to go over the spring training schedule.”

The Captain of her guards turns to Yunho as he closes the door behind him. He grabs the front of Yunho’s shirt and drags him closer.

“What did you do?” he snarls. Annoyed, Yunho shoves him off.

“None of your business,” he says.

Siwon gives him a cold look. “I’ve ignored you until now, _slave_ , because I know my lady has no interest in using you for pleasure. But I’m warning you now – stay away from her if you know what’s good for you.”

“Why, you in love with her?” Yunho scoffs, then realises he’s inadvertently hit the nail on the head when Siwon’s jaw tightens. He blinks and steps back. “Oh.”

Siwon throws him a filthy look and ducks into Boa’s room. 

\- - -

“What did _you_ do?” Changmin asks when Yunho joins him for guard duty that night. Yunho grimaces.

“Called her an ice queen and told her to apologise to you,” he says. 

Changmin grins and stretches his arms above his head, making his shirt ride up and expose the curve of his hips. “You stud. I always knew you had it in you.”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “You’re being really stupid about this whole thing, I hope you know that.”

Changmin’s grin disappears. 

Yunho comes to stand beside him and they stare out beyond the castle walls. It’s a steep drop to the ocean below and beyond that is dark, rolling waves as far as the eye can see. A cold wind ruffles their hair and squirms in through their clothes, making them shiver.

“I know,” Changmin says quietly. “That I’m being stupid about this. I know why she wanted this and why you agreed to it. I just – I’m stupid when it comes to you, okay? I can’t distance myself and look at the situation objectively. I can’t.”

Yunho’s fingers brush his cheek. “I did this for you,” he says. “I did this so that, in the event that Boa dies, we won’t be sold again to another master. Lord Emir was just one of many. I can’t forget all the times I wasn’t able to protect you. I don’t ever want to be in that situation again.” 

Changmin sighs and looks away. “Boa has been. . .kind and just. In comparison.”

“She has,” Yunho agrees.

“And it was incredibly generous of her to will her estates to you.” Guilt and regret squirm through Changmin. He bites his lip.

“It was,” Yunho agrees.

“Not that I’m hoping she’ll die anytime soon. That would kind of suck.”

Yunho chuckles and wraps his arms around him. Changmin curls into him and rests his head on his shoulder. 

“I think – I may owe her an apology,” he concedes. Yunho grins and kisses his cheek.

“You and me both baby.”

\- - - 

In the end Boa finds him before he finds her.

He’s sorting through a mountain of books when she walks into the library. Changmin looks up at the sound of footsteps and almost drops ‘A Complete History of the North’ on his foot.

For a few seconds they just stare at each other. Boa shoves both hands in the pockets of her soft kidskin jacket and hunches over.

“I’m not good at relationships,” she eventually blurts out.

Changmin blinks.

“I. . .sometimes overthink things in my head and forget how they’ll affect the people involved,” Boa continues.

Changmin squints at her. “Are you trying to apologise to me?” he asks.

Boa huffs, blowing her fringe out of her face. “Yes. Will you just shut up and let me do it?”

Changmin grins. It’s clear that this is costing her a lot of pride and he’s enjoying watching her squirm. Boa sighs and drops her hands to her side.

“I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have asked Yunho to marry me without asking you. It was. . .callous.”

“It was,” Changmin agrees. Boa gives him a mulish look.

“Yunho called me an ice queen,” she says mournfully. 

There’s something unbearably adorable about such a reticent apology. Changmin laughs.

“Don’t worry, he’s just mad we’re both cracking the whip hand on him lately.” Boa looks at him from under her fringe and he scrunches his nose in guilt. “I’m sorry I fucked him in your bed.”

She sighs and shrugs, and Changmin takes it as tacit forgiveness.

Boa digs in her pocket and hands him a paper.

“Here. It arrived by crow today.”

“His Royal Highness King Asril of the North invites you to his annual 3-day midsummer ball,” Changmin reads. He raises an eyebrow.

“Prince Jongin has come of age – it’s really just an excuse for him to meet eligible ladies,” Boa explains. 

Changmin wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.

“Not me!” she says, rolling her eyes. “But it’s an invitation I can’t refuse, especially not when every lord in the north will be there.” She gives Changmin a narrow look. “My guards won’t be allowed within the inner sanctums of the castle so I’m taking you and Yunho with me. See if all that training I’ve been putting you to has done any good.”

Changmin examines the invitation. “So we’re going to the capital?”

Boa nods. “To Corton.”

\- - -

They’re to leave for Corton the next week, which gives them time, Boa says, to make themselves presentable. She’s let them run wild at Kwon but things are different in the Capital. They’ll be expected to look and act like the pleasure slaves she bought them as, and acting the way they do around here – a glare in Changmin’s direction – will be viewed as an undermining of her authority in Corton.

Changmin tries to look contrite and agreeable, right up until she declares she’s giving them haircuts, at which point he runs away and hides in an enclave of the castle. He happens to like his unruly mop of curls – besides, he’s always hated getting haircuts.

Yunho, ever the more obedient one, submits to having his hair cut and dyed a soft red. Changmin spends the rest of the day tugging on it and telling him he looks weird, but later that night he rolls over in bed and whispers that he actually sort of likes it. Yunho rewards him by fucking him into the mattress so hard Changmin can’t walk straight the next day.

They ride out with a retinue of twenty guards, Boa at the head with Siwon at her side. He spurs his horse past them as they start to leave and Yunho doesn’t miss the narrow glare Siwon sends his way when Boa turns away and knows that’s one alliance he’s going to regret messing up.

Corton appears over the rise of a hill, its dark spires and sprawling castle looming over them as they ride through the gates. Yunho looks up and up and tries not to feel overwhelmed – it’s twice the size of Castle Bylyn.

A lithe figure appears at the palace doors as they dismount, dressed in expensive silks of blue and grey. Prince Jongin has full lips and soft brown skin, and he and Boa embrace as he reaches them.

“Hey kiddo,” she grins, tugging at his forelock. Jongin bats at her hand, but he’s smiling.

“Welcome to Corton,” he says.


	6. Chapter 6

On their first night in Corton Boa dresses them in sleeveless red tunics and black leather pants, gold bands around their biceps and their eyes lined with kohl. They have to look pretty and obedient and submissive, a directive Changmin silently rails against. He tugs at the collar of his tunic, lips twisted in a pout as the maids try to fix his hair.

“Stop fidgeting,” Boa says, not even looking up from the note she’s reading. She’s been given a lavish set of rooms in the west wing of the palace, clearly being a favorite of the King’s. 

Changmin grimaces but stills. “I feel like a doll.”

“While we are here you must play the part of one,” Boa says impatiently. “Get used to it.”

Changmin grits his teeth. A searing retort sits at the tip of his tongue – and dies when he feels Yunho’s hand on the small of his back. He glances around at him and Yunho smiles, soft and pretty in the candlelight.

“You look beautiful,” he says. 

The tension drains out of Changmin’s shoulders. He sighs and nudges Yunho’s cheek with his nose.

“You too,” he mumbles. Yunho kisses his cheek and murmurs soothingly in his ear, one hand rubbing his back, and Changmin slowly grows pliant and acquiescing under his touch. 

Boa shoos her maids away and picks up the corner of her gown. “Let’s go kittens,” she calls. 

They follow her out, keeping a respectful two steps behind her as she leads them to the palace dining hall. The stone corridors open up to a wide room, adorned with huge chandeliers and intricate tapestries. The lords and ladies of the north mingle at the long wooden tables and around the room, many of them shadowed by their slaves.

Boa takes a seat at the table nearest to the throne, where King Asril and the Prince are holding court. Yunho and Changmin remain standing, quiet and watchful at her shoulder.

“Keep an ear out,” she murmurs to them before engaging her neighbour at the table in conversation.

They keep an ear out, and over the course of the night they learn this: the Queen died when Prince Jongin was a mere child, and in her absence he has come to regard the Lady Boa as a motherly sister figure. He values her advice above all others’ and often seeks her out at Kwon, a fact that has endeared the strange and distant Boa to the rest of the court.

And beneath the happy chattering he hears whispers of unrest, of the raid that occurred at a town east of Corton the night before – by mercenaries wielding northerner blades. He hears lords loudly swear allegiance to the King and others whisper treason behind their hands, hatching plots with a dark glimmer in their eyes. It seems there’s at least one advantage to being a slave here – they’re regarded as no more than pretty trinkets, so nobody bothers to censor themselves within their hearing range.

They report everything to Boa in the privacy of their rooms later that night, and she nods but doesn’t say anything. Yunho has the suspicion she probably already knows a lot more than they do, but she doesn't offer to share so he doesn’t inquire.

\- - -

On their second night Boa has them dressed in thigh-length tunics of sapphire blue, tied at the waist with gold rope and edged in embroidery. Their hair is swept up off their faces and golden paint lines their eyes. Their legs are left bare, and it exposes so much skin Changmin spends most of the night self-consciously tugging his clothes down. Yunho is more comfortable in own skin and easily makes friends with the other slaves, laughing and gossiping as though he’s known them for years. 

Changmin hangs back, too shy to be as forthcoming. He spends most of the night half-hiding behind Yunho and when Yunho notices he laughs and draws Changmin forward, kissing his cheek.

“What is it?” he asks, drawing Changmin down onto a chaise. 

Changmin doesn’t know how to explain his sudden bout of reticence, so he allows Yunho to kiss him into a flushed daze instead. It draws attention; he can feel people watching them, the hunger of the lords and ladies and the jealousy of their slaves. He looks up as Yunho proceeds to press kisses to his neck and meets Boa’s eyes across the room.

She’s standing near the King, the two of them deep in discussion, and when Boa nods at him Changmin understands – she wants the distraction.

He takes a deep breath and slides into Yunho’s lap. They had performed for Lord Emir on many occasions, sometimes even while he had guests in the room. It was not uncommon in the north for slaves to fuck in public; it was considered a form of art, and the prettier the performance the more highly regarded a slave was.

Yunho’s hand slides up his thigh and Changmin knows he understands. Their lips meet and Changmin tries to forget their audience, tries to focus on only Yunho, on the heat of his mouth and the long fingers sliding into his hair. They kiss wet and deep, angling their faces so the watchers can clearly see the way Yunho’s tongue dips into Changmin’s mouth, can hear the stuttered moan that spills off his lips when he throws his head back and arches. Yunho’s hands leave his hair and slide up his thighs, under the tunic, and clutch at his ass. 

Changmin gasps. Heat squirms through him and his hips make little movements in Yunho’s lap, wanting more, needing – 

A hand lays itself in his hair. “Enough,” Boa says quietly. 

Changmin goes still. He looks around at her and sees possessiveness darken her gaze and it lights something fierce inside him. Yunho’s hands retreat from under his tunic and they both get to their feet before sinking gracefully to their knees in front of their mistress.

Whispers break out across the hall. Changmin bows his head and smiles; in a place where image was everything this little display of power will win Boa allies. 

She caresses his cheek and tells them to go wait for her in her rooms. 

That night for the first time they sleep at the foot of her bed, curled up against each other like giant cats, and Changmin spends a long time watching her sleep before closing his eyes. 

\- - -

The third night, and the grand finale of the ball. Boa’s seamstresses pull out all the stops and dress them in pure white – white pants, white undershirts, and exquisitely cut white jackets covered in silver embroidery and jewels. Knee-length boots complete the outfits. Boa wants them to look pretty but intimidating, less like slaves and more like the bodyguards she has secretly trained them to be. 

The hall is much more crowded than the previous two days. Many lords were invited for the final night only, and they quickly lose sight of Boa amidst the other courtiers. Bored and wanting to escape the crowd, they wander out onto a balcony.

It’s a beautiful night, crisp and clear. Moonlight spills across the balcony, washing them in pale light. The sound of conversation fades away but the music carries easily, the soft, lilting melody of a slow waltz. Yunho smiles and holds out his hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asks. 

Changmin laughs. “You know I’m a terrible dancer.”

“Then it’s lucky I’m a good one.” 

Their hands clasp. Yunho settles his free hand on Changmin’s waist and pulls him close, Changmin’s other hand finding a natural resting spot on his shoulder. Yunho spins him, taking the lead and pulling Changmin with him. Changmin falters at first, then falls into step with a shy laugh. His lack of coordination is matched by Yunho’s grace, and Yunho smiles and tightens his grip on him. 

Long ago, when they were still children, they would sneak away from the kitchens to watch the annual balls held at Castle Bylyn, fascinated by all the fine garments and glittering jewels of the nobility of the south. Changmin’s eyes would inevitably stray to the mountains of intricately prepared food they weren’t allowed to eat – but Yunho would watch the dances, watch and learn each step, and then teach them to Changmin in the privacy of the gardens, laughing and stumbling over each other in the dark. 

It’s been years since then but the muscle memory remains – or at least Yunho’s does. A gust of wind lifts his hair off his forehead and Changmin meets his gaze. The world spinning past them fades, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the dance and the sweet, loving look in Yunho’s eyes. Changmin’s lips part, a blush inexplicably rising to his cheeks. He can’t hold the look – he glances away, then stumbles over his own feet at the next turn. He lurches forward and Yunho catches him against his chest with a laugh.

Changmin huffs, blowing hair out of his eyes. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly. 

“It’s okay – you did warn me,” Yunho grins. He puts his arms around Changmin’s waist and rocks them, humming a little under his breath. Changmin loops both arms around his neck and presses his nose to Yunho’s shoulder, breathing in his musk and the scent of new clothes.

The music fades. Quiet descends, wraps around them like a blanket. A breeze rustles the trees and carries the scent of roses from the gardens. Cradled in Yunho’s arms Changmin experiences a moment of exquisite peace, as fleeting and delicate as a moth’s wings. They’re pressed so close together he can feel Yunho’s heartbeat, strong and steady, and the warmth of Yunho’s breath against his neck.

Yunho’s mouth brushes his cheek. Changmin turns his head, breathes out against his lips. For a moment they just nuzzle at each other, eyes half-lidded, and the heat of anticipation rises to Changmin’s cheeks. 

His lips part. He makes a small sound and shifts slightly and Yunho kisses him, closing the miniscule space between them. Heat frissons up his spine and Changmin sinks into it, opens his mouth and swallows Yunho’s trembling breath. He lifts his hand and slides it into Yunho’s hair, the fine strands shifting like sand through his fingers, and Yunho makes a pleased sound and presses harder against him.

Changmin’s breath slows. The soft, plush slide of Yunho’s mouth against his makes his head spin and he clutches at Yunho to ground himself, to stop himself from flying apart into a thousand little butterfly pieces. Time slows and grinds to a halt. 

He flicks his tongue out, licks at the seam of Yunho’s lower lip and feels Yunho shudder against him. He pulls back with a slick sound and murmurs a soft _oh,_ as though he’s discovering Changmin anew, and then they’re kissing again, sticky hot and sweet. Yunho’s arm leaves his waist to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer – impossibly close – and Changmin rests his head on Yunho’s bicep as they kiss and wishes, in some vague, barely-functioning part of his brain, that he had the power to somehow stitch their souls together. 

They draw apart panting and dazed and Yunho presses fleeting pecks against his lips, murmuring sweet, meaningless words between each kiss. Dizzy, Changmin clutches at him and waits for the world to stop spinning. 

Yunho pulls back. Changmin opens his eyes – the stars wheel overhead and Yunho looks celestial framed against them. He sighs in awe and brushes a finger down Yunho’s cheek.

Typically, now would be a great time to say something romantic and heartfelt, but Changmin just looks at him and lets his eyes speak all the words that would be too inadequate in articulation. Yunho smiles, kisses him one last time, and sets Changmin back on his feet.

They untangle themselves from each other reluctantly and straighten their clothes. Changmin runs a hand through his hair just to give himself something to do other than reach for Yunho again.

“I brought you something,” Yunho says quietly, and from the pocket of his pristine white jacket he draws out an apple.

An impossibly sweet smile curves Changmin’s lips. He takes the apple with both hands and rubs his thumbs over a spot until it shines, rosy red and perfect in the moonlight. He looks back up at Yunho.

“You remembered,” he says, brow furrowed with painful affection.

The first time Yunho had kissed him Changmin was 10, barely old enough to know what love was or what the action even meant. Startled, he had started to cry, and a panicking Yunho had shoved an apple in his hands to distract him. It was only after he had eaten the whole thing in a fit of confusion-induced hunger, core and all, that it occurred to Changmin he should have offered to share. Yunho had erupted into peals of laughter at his guilty expression and kissed him again, this time on the cheek, to which Changmin had responded with a fiery blush.

Since then Yunho had brought him an apple every year on the anniversary of their first kiss, at first as a joke, then later as a symbol and a promise. 

There have been no apples since they were captured; in the five years they spent under Lord Emir they were too busy struggling to stay alive and together to remember small romantic gestures. 

But now they have a new mistress, and now Yunho has an apple.

Changmin takes the first bite, the crunch of it loud, and sweet apple juice fills his mouth. He offers it to Yunho with both hands and Yunho takes a bite of it while Changmin is still holding it. They finish it off together and then lick the residual juice from each other’s lips. Changmin smiles, warm and satisfied, and leans in to breathe in Yunho’s ear.

“Thank you,” he whispers, and Yunho turns his head to kiss his cheek.

“You two are by far the worst bodyguards I’ve ever had.”

They draw apart with guilty laughs and turn to see Boa striding towards them. Dressed in a tight-fitting gown of black and silver with her dark hair pulled back in a bun she looks powerful and commanding. She crooks a finger at them.

“Come on. There’s someone I have to greet and I want you with me.”

They follow her into the hall and Changmin casts a curious glance around.

“Who exactly are we meeting?”

Boa rounds a corner and plasters an insincere smile on her face. “My uncle,” she grits out. “The Baron Athmos.”

Baron Athmos is a giant of a man, red-bearded and rosy cheeked. He has a booming voice, and beside him Boa looks tinier than ever. She curtsies to him and Athmos laughs.

“Come how child, I hardly think we need such formalities,” he says, bending to kiss her cheek. Boa gives a stiff smile.

“How are you uncle?”

“Well enough, well enough. Still dealing with raiders across the boarder but don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”

“I do worry about that,” Boa says, narrowing her eyes. “They say the raiders had northern blades. I’m sure you know nothing about that.”

Athmos gives her a bland look. “I can’t imagine what you mean my dear.”

His gaze slides to the two behind her, appraising and assessing. “Really Boa, slaves?” he says. “I thought you abhorred the concept.”

“Sometimes they can prove useful. It stops pointless gossip about my so-called unnatural celibacy,” Boa says.

“Mm. And such strong and handsome slaves too,” Athmos murmurs.

His gaze meets Changmin’s, and any friendly impression he might have initially made dies there. The Baron’s eyes are cold and calculating, and they sweep over him with ill-concealed lust. 

Changmin flushes, then lifts his head as Boa introduces them. His golden collar glints in the firelight.

Athmos steps closer and curls a hand under his chin. Out of the corner of his eye Changmin sees Yunho start, then stiffen as Boa lays a warning hand on his arm.

Athmos is too close, towering over him despite Changmin’s height. Changmin refuses to look away, even when the Baron smiles and forces him to tilt his head.

“A pity,” he murmurs, too soft for anyone but Changmin to hear. “To waste such beauty on my mousy little niece.”

His fingers tighten, nails digging into Changmin’s chin. Changmin doesn’t flinch, and that seems to please the Baron. He chuckles and lets go of him.

“Congratulations, niece,” he says before he leaves. “You chose well.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Wake up.”

Yunho jerks upright, one hand immediately reaching out to check that Changmin is still beside him. They had grown used to rude awakenings under their old master – he was an impatient man and to keep him waiting was to ensure a beating, something they had learned the hard way. 

But it’s only Boa, standing at the foot of their bed with an impatient look on her face. She’s dressed in her riding leathers and looks like she’s been awake for hours. She narrows her eyes as Yunho blinks groggily at her.

“Have you two been drinking?” she demands. “I had to call you four times before you woke.”

“Only sparingly?” Yunho mumbles.

Next to him, Changmin gives an almighty snore and rolls over. He had not drunk sparingly.

After their unpleasant meeting with Baron Athmos Boa had dismissed them for the rest of the night, and they eventually found themselves in the kitchens with an assortment of servants and slaves. The company was pleasant and the wine even better; Yunho has the vague recollection of flirting with a kitchen maid before a very drunk Changmin had pushed her aside, climbed into his lap and practically eaten his face off to the sound of loud catcalls.

He flinches and runs a hand through his hair.

“Um – it was a great party?” Yunho tries. Boa gives him an unimpressed look and reaches into her cloak.

Yunho nudges Changmin’s side until he wakes with a groan and drags himself upright using Yunho as support. His head lolls on Yunho’s shoulder and both arms wrap around his waist as he clings to him.

“Good morning,” Yunho nudges his cheek with his nose.

“What’s good about it,” Changmin grumbles, and gets a sloppy kiss in reply.

Boa places a package wrapped in brown paper on the bed. She pulls the wrapping aside and Changmin sits up, immediately more awake.

Two daggers glint in the morning light. Their hilts and scabbards are golden, the sigil of an eagle stamped on each. They look new and exquisitely made, and Yunho whistles under his breath as Boa hands one to each of them.

“I had these made for you,” she says. “I can hardly expect you to protect me without weapons. You can choose where you want to wear them, but make sure they are on your person at all times from now on.” 

“Pretty,” Changmin breathes.

“Very pretty,” Yunho agrees. He unsheathes the blade and admires the flash of steel. It’s not a sword, but in close combat daggers can often prove just as useful. 

He glances up at Boa. “Thank you.”

Boa smiles. “It was my pleasure. I have to admit, I’ve become quite fond of spoiling you two.”

Changmin gives her a sly grin and puts the dagger aside. “You liked dressing us up too, didn’t you.”

“It wasn’t a chore,” Boa says neutrally, but there’s a glint in her eye that gives her away.

Changmin laughs and pushes Yunho onto his back, climbing on top of him with his eyes fixed on Boa.

“And when we kissed in the great hall for everyone to see? Did you like that too?” 

Boa’s expression shutters. Yunho tilts his head back and looks at her upside down and sees some unnamed emotion cross her face.

“No,” she says softly. “I didn’t like that.”

Changmin’s not laughing anymore, though a smile still lingers on his face as he lowers his head to press a kiss to Yunho’s neck.

“Me neither. Too many people.” Another kiss. “I prefer a smaller audience.”

Their eyes meet, Changmin’s playful, Boa’s dark. Boa looks away first, a rueful smile twisting her lips before she turns away and heads for the door.

“Get dressed,” she says. “We leave for Kwon in an hour.”

“Want to watch me fuck your husband before we go?” Changmin offers casually. It’s the first time he’s referred to their marriage with no anger or bitterness in his voice, and Boa laughs softly.

“Maybe another time.”

The door closes behind her. Yunho strokes his hand up Changmin’s back.

“What was all that about?” he asks.

Changmin shrugs. “I don’t like playing games. If she wants us then I want her to just come out and say it. Why hold back?”

Yunho smiles. “Maybe her self control is just better than yours.”

Changmin growls low in his throat and bites at his lower lip. “You know, I don’t need an audience to fuck you.”

“Oh?” Yunho laughs and slides a hand in his hair, pulling Changmin down for a kiss. 

They tumble sideways, legs tangling, Boa forgotten for the meantime.

\- - -

They gather in the courtyard later that morning. Boa’s guards are restless, having spent 3 days effectively twiddling their thumbs. They’re too well-trained to have indulged in the pleasures the city had to offer, but there hadn’t been much for them to do at the castle either.

They mount up, and the grooms make one last check of the horse. Boa is at the head of their procession, flanked by Siwon and Donghae on either side. 

She’s about to give the signal to move out when a steward appears at the doors of the palace and runs down the steps towards them.

“My lady!” he calls. “My lady Boa! Please, you can’t leave yet.”

Boa turns her horse and raises an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“Prince Jongin has requested your presence in his council chamber, my lady,” the steward pants.

Boa looks bewildered. “I have said my goodbyes to Jongin already. What does he want?”

The steward clears his throat. “The prince,” he says. “Has chosen a bride. He wishes for your counsel before the match is made.”

An oddly apprehensive look crosses Boa’s face before he schools her expression. 

“I see. Did he say who?”

“He did not, my lady,” the steward says in tones that suggest she should stop asking questions and just come with him already. 

Boa sighs and turns back to her men. 

“We’ll wait for you,” Siwon immediately says. 

Boa shakes her head. “No, you go on. The men are restless and it’s pointless to keep them here. I’ll follow later with some of the prince’s guards.”

Yunho nudges his horse forward to her side, ignoring the glare Siwon slants his way. 

“Do you want us to stay?” he asks quietly, indicating himself and Changmin. The prince’s sudden request was odd, and he didn’t feel good about leaving Boa on her own. 

Boa seems to consider it for a moment before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine,” she gives him a smile. “I don’t plan to stay long.”

She dismounts and gives the reigns of her horse to a groom. “Siwon,” he says to her captain. “You’re in charge of the keep while I’m gone.”

“Yes my lady,” he bows in his saddle, and they watch with creeping apprehension as Boa follows the steward back into the castle.

\- - -

The ride back to Kwon is uneventful. 

Siwon sets a hard pace, all of them eager to get home. He rides at the head of the group, for which Yunho is glad because he and Changmin are in the rear and the more space between them the better. He tells Changmin in low tones about the altercation he’d had with Siwon and his realisation that he was in love with Boa, and Changmin snorts.

“Poor bastard,” he says. “Probably kills him inside when she calls us to her chambers every night.”

“Everyone in Kwon knows she doesn’t do anything like that with us,” Yunho reminds him.

“Since when has logic had anything to do with jealousy?” Changmin shakes his head. “Let’s just stay out of his way.”

Kwon looms into view over the horizon, and Yunho feels a jolt of something warm go through him. It’s been a long time since he’s had a place to call home, but something about the dark spires and rugged beauty of the keep bring him comfort. He shares a small smile with Changmin as they ride into the courtyard and dismount.

By the time they’ve rubbed their horses down and led them to the stables it’s nightfall and they’re all starved. The men clatter into the dining hall, greeting the servants and other members of the house as Siwon calls for dinner to be prepared.

The satisfaction of a well-fed stomach is something Yunho thinks he’ll always treasure, having known starvation first when they fled their village and then later under Lord Emir’s cruelty. He transfers morsels of his meal to Changmin’s plate as they eat, a survival habit he hasn’t yet forgotten, and Changmin laughs and tells him to finish his own food first. 

Yunho is about to retort that he’s still too thin when a loud banging on the door makes him look around.

Siwon rises from the head of the table with a frown and indicates that whoever it is be let in.

Through the doors of the dining hall strides Baron Athmos and an impressive retinue of his men. The pleasant chatter stops and the men rise to their feet, a mark of both respect and watchfulness.

“My lord,” Siwon says. “To what do we owe the honour?”

“I was riding home from the capital but there’s a mean storm on the way. Didn’t want to get caught in it. Where’s my niece?” Athmos rumbles.

“My lady is still in the capital. The prince had some need for her.”

“Oh, indeed?” A sly little grin spreads across Athmos’ face, and Yunho feels a chill slide down his spine. He doesn’t look surprised at the news that Boa’s not here. “That’s no trouble. We’ll just stay the night and then be on our way in the morning.”

Siwon hesitates. There’s no way Boa would allow her uncle and his men to spend the night in her castle, but Boa is not here – and Siwon is not in a position to be refusing board to a nobleman. He jerks his head.

“Of course my lord. We’ll have rooms prepared for you.”

Athmos grunts in approval and starts to leave. As he passes them his eyes land on Changmin, standing there looking soft and wary in the candlelight. 

Athmos smirks. “Hello pretty. I’m so glad we can meet again,” he nods to two of his men. “Have him brought to my chambers.”

Yunho goes cold. A denial forms on his lips, but then two guards loom in front of them and grab Changmin roughly. Changmin snarls and shakes himself out of their grip.

“I can walk,” he snaps. 

Athmos laughs, apparently amused by his fierceness. His men grab Changmin again and drag him along with them. Yunho’s eyes dart around the room in panic, but he’s powerless – Athmos’ men outnumber theirs, and nobody was going to risk starting a war over a slave. He feels a pressure on his arm and looks around to find Donghae gripping him.

“Don’t. Do. Anything,” Donghae breathes.

Yunho grits his teeth, his body strung tight with tension as Changmin glances back at him one last time before he’s pulled away.

\- - -

Yunho paces his room, hands clenching and unclenching, mind abuzz with questions. Where was Changmin now? What did Athmos plan to do with him? Could he get to him in time or would he have to fight his way through? How many men would he have to kill? He trusted his own strength, but if he was outnumbered – 

_The guards deposit Changmin on the floor of Athmos’ room none too gently. He turns around and snarls at them and they quickly back off, closing the door behind them._

_Athmos is sitting on the edge of his bed, his shoes removed and an amused look on his face._

_“Are you going to be difficult about this? That’ll only make it hurt more.”_

_Changmin gets to his feet and narrows his eyes at him. “What do you want with me?”_

_Athmos snorts. “Are you simple? There’s only one thing a pleasure slave is good for. Get on the bed.”_

After Athmos had disappeared with Changmin in tow Donghae had dragged Yunho to his room and told him to stay put. He’d reminded him that Changmin was capable of taking care of himself and, somewhat pertinently, placed two guards outside his door to keep Yunho from doing anything stupid.

Yunho didn’t care. He had to get to Changmin before Athmos so much as laid a finger on him. He didn’t trust that man and he loathed the way he looked at Changmin.

_Changmin doesn’t move. His eyes dart around the room, cataloguing escape routes and potential weapons._

_The smirk disappears off Athmos’ face. He gets to his feet and grabs the front of Changmin’s shirt._

_“I said, get on the fucking bed.”_

_He drags Changmin to the four-poster and throws him onto it, as though he weighs nothing, and climbs on top of him. Changmin squirms and struggles under him, pushing at his shoulders._

_“No!”_

_“Shut up,” Athmos backhands him and Changmin gasps as pain sings through his cheek._

Yunho strides to the door, then changes his mind and heads for the balcony instead. If he can vault onto the roof from there he can work his way across the battlements and to Athmos’ room, and it’ll be far quicker than arguing with Donghae’s guards.

_Athmos rips at his clothes and now Changmin is really panicking, survival instincts on overdrive and adrenalin pumping through him. He kicks out and manages to get a foothold on Athmos’ hip, using it as leverage to push the big man off._

_He fumbles at his ankle and draws out the blade Boa had given them that morning. Athmos lunges for him and Changmin stabs, the dagger sinking through flesh and muscle. His aim is off in his panic, and Athmos yells as the blade lodges in his upper arm._

Yunho is heading for the balcony when a loud bellow echoes through the castle. He doesn’t stop to think – he yanks the door open and exchanges a look with the guards before all three of them are running towards the sound.

The great hall is in commotion. Athmos’ guards mill everywhere, looking angry and threatening as Siwon and the Kwon men try to calm them. And through the doors strides a livid-looking Athmos, dragging Changmin by the hair and holding a golden dagger. His arm runs with blood from a wound in his bicep.

“The little maggot stabbed me!” he yells, throwing Changmin at his feet. 

An angry murmur goes through Athmos’ men. Yunho swallows, his eyes fixed on Changmin’s crumpled form. He doesn't look hurt, apart from a bruise blooming on his cheek. 

“Bring my whip,” Athmos commands, and a man leaves to fetch it while two more drag Changmin upright and force his arms wide. “You slave filth, I’ll teach you to raise your hand to me. I’m going to flay the skin off your back – ”

Changmin goes pale. 

_No no no._

Yunho sees the trembling start, sees the panic in his eyes, and can’t do nothing. Not this time.

“Wait!” he steps forward, and silence falls. “I – I have a confession to make.” He drops to his knees, head bowed, and swallows. “It was I who ordered Changmin to fight you, my lord. I was jealous. I passed him the dagger after you asked for him.”

Athmos pauses. His eyes narrow in Yunho’s direction. He seems to be considering this odd turn of events, weighing them against each other.

“You ordered him to kill me?” he demands.

Yunho looks up, meets Changmin’s confused and dazed eyes. “Yes.”

The guards leave Changmin and advance on him instead. They drag him in front of Athmos and rip at his shirt, exposing his back. Yunho looks around, sees Siwon watching on frozen and knows – he’s not going to stop this.

“No,” Changmin seems to have realised what’s happening. “No – Yunho – ”

“Lock him in his room,” Athmos says dismissively.

“NO,” Changmin struggles against the men pulling him away.

The man with the whip arrives and Athmos takes it from him, flexing his good arm. 

“You haven’t known pain before tonight, slave.”

Yunho closes his eyes.

_“YUNHO!”_

The doors slam on his anguished cry, drowning out the sound of Yunho’s first scream.


	8. Chapter 8

They dump Yunho in his room eventually, broken and barely conscious.

Changmin cries when he sees him, his back a tapestry of deep welts and matted blood. He’d pounded his fists bloody on the door to drown out the sound of Yunho’s cries, but it hasn’t prepared him at all.

He carries Yunho to the bed and lays him out on his stomach, hands trembling as he cleans him with a warm, wet cloth. His tears patter onto Yunho’s back, mixing with the sweat and blood. 

The door opens and Seohyun enters, her mouth set in a thin line. She’s carrying salves and bandages; silently, she helps Changmin finish cleaning Yunho, then smooths the healing salve onto his wounds. Yunho hisses and jerks, but is otherwise silent. 

Changmin had thought he was passed out. He takes Yunho’s hand and presses it against his mouth, and Yunho’s eyes flutter.

“Donghae said to check the bandages every four hours,” Seohyun says finally.

“Oh so now he cares?” Changmin snarls. 

Seohyun’s gaze flickers to him but she doesn’t say anything. They lift Yunho carefully and Seohyun wraps bandages around his torso, tucking the gauze in neatly once she’s done.

“Of course he cares,” she says quietly. “You don’t know how close this castle came to being a bloodbath tonight. How much control our guards had to exercise not to intervene. They know what happened was a gross injustice.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Siwon’s really cut up about it,” Changmin says bitterly.

Seohyun doesn’t rise to the bait. “Athmos is a dangerous man, Changmin. He’d use any excuse to launch an attack on Kwon, to create discord here and undermine Boa’s authority. What he did tonight was a deliberate show of power – you and Yunho were just the pawns. It was essential we didn’t rise to it. Boa wouldn’t want us to.”

Changmin doesn’t want to hear this right now. He doesn’t care what Boa wants or what’s right for the keep; all he cares about is Yunho, and the proof that even after everything, after thinking they had found safety, a home, friends – in the end all they really had was each other. He feels exhausted, abandoned and angry, and Seohyun’s cool logic isn’t helping.

He turns his face away from her. “Just go,” Changmin whispers.

He hears her sigh, then the soft sound of her gathering her things and leaving. 

Silence falls. Changmin blows out the candles and stares into the darkness. His throat is raw and his head aches, but he can’t sleep.

“Changminnie.”

The rasp of Yunho’s voice makes him look around. He shuffles closer to him and takes his hand and Yunho gives him a wobbly smile.

“Hey. There you are,” he says.

Changmin swallows. Words abandon him.

“Don’t look so sad,” Yunho manages a weak chuckle. “Now we’ll have matching scars.”

Tears gather in Changmin’s eyes and spill over. He slides lower on the bed and cries into Yunho’s shoulder, cries for them.

\- - -

A knock breaks the quiet of morning.

Changmin silently curses whoever it is. He’d slept fitfully all night, acutely aware of Yunho’s soft whimpers of pain every time he shifted. He’s gotten up twice to check the dressings and changed them the second time, at which point Yunho had passed out from the pain and Changmin had had to maneuver his uncooperative body as he tried to re-bandage it. 

Finally around dawn they had both dropped off into exhausted, dreamless sleep – only to be woken mere hours later by whoever was at their door.

Changmin opens one eye and glares as Donghae lets himself in and strides to Yunho’s side. He takes a seat on the bed, mouth pressed into a thin line.

“Hey. Rough night huh.”

Neither of them responds. Donghae sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Listen. I’m really sorry – I couldn’t do anything, you have to understand – ”

“I understand,” Yunho says, but doesn’t offer anything more. Donghae licks his lips.

“Boa’s back,” he says. “Arrived an hour ago. She’s ordered a healing bath for you, it’ll help with the wounds.”

Changmin snorts. “So you told her. I hope you didn’t leave anything out, like how you stood there like a mute idiot and did nothing.”

Donghae sighs. “Okay. I deserved that.” He pats Yunho’s shoulder. “Come on big guy, you’ll feel a lot better after a bath.”

Yunho groans and allows Donghae to help him up, leaning on his shoulder as he wobbles to his feet.

“You know, your heroic little save last night won you a lot of respect,” Donghae mentions, and he and Yunho exchange a meaningful glance.

“Oh well then as long as he’s got the people’s respect who cares that he’s half dead,” Changmin says snidely as he comes around to Yunho’s other side.

Donghae isn’t going to take it twice. “Look if you’re going to be a bitch about it you can just stay here.”

“Shut up Donghae I didn’t ask for your help – ”

“Changmin,” Yunho interrupts their brewing argument. He turns his head and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Donghae isn’t our enemy. Let it go.”

Changmin has no intention of letting it go, but he subsides. 

They make their way to the baths and help Yunho undress, carefully peeling his bandages off. The wounds aren’t infected thanks to Seohyun, but there’s a nasty tapestry of lashes across Yunho’s back, a few of them still bleeding sluggishly. 

Changmin strips off and gets in, then helps Yunho into the bath. The steaming water is fragrant and milky, herbs floating across the surface. Yunho hisses as it touches his back, then relaxes into Changmin’s arms.

Donghae fetches a bathing sponge and Changmin draws the milky water up Yunho’s back, patting gently and watching the water become pink as it rolls back down. Yunho sighs and glances at Donghae.

“Thanks man.” He pokes Changmin’s side under the water and Changmin grunts out a thanks too.

Donghae laughs and ruffles his hair before taking his leave. 

Left alone, Changmin settles back against the edge of the bath and allows Yunho to rest his full weight on him. Yunho sighs in contentment, his face finding the crook of Changmin’s neck, and closes his eyes as Changmin abandons the sponge to scoop the water onto his back with both hands. His fingers touch the edge of a wound and he catches his breath.

Yunho opens his eyes. “How bad is it?” he asks, voice small.

Changmin doesn’t want to lie to him. “It’s pretty bad,” he admits.

Yunho makes a soft sound and lowers his face into his neck again, lips against his slave collar. 

Changmin’s arms tighten around him. There’s a ball of anger burning inside him, a desire for revenge that threatens to burn everything in its path. He lifts Yunho’s head and kisses him, fierce and hard.

“Next time I won’t miss,” he whispers. Yunho says nothing.

The door opens and Boa enters. She’s carrying a tray laden with food and it’s only once he sees it that Changmin realises he’s starving. Still, as she places the tray down beside them he chooses a morsel and lifts it to Yunho’s mouth first.

Yunho accepts it with a small laugh. “I can feed myself,” he points out.

Changmin flushes. “Just shut up and eat,” he huffs, shoving the next piece into Yunho’s mouth less gently.

Boa takes her shoes off and sits on the edge of the bath, dipping her feet into the water near them.

“My sources tell me Athmos is back home in Nacios,” she says. “He left before I arrived this morning.” 

Changmin snorts. “Coward.” They all know Boa would have had her uncle’s head for what he did last night. Changmin meets her eye. “I had the chance to kill him and I failed.”

Boa shakes her head. “No matter.” Her gaze slides to Yunho. “Show me your back.”

He stops eating and turns slowly, exposing the mottled expanse of his back to her. Boa stares at it and says nothing, but Changmin sees the same anger and pain flash through her eyes that he feels. 

“I’m going to make him pay for this,” she says softly. 

“Not if I get to him first,” Changmin growls.

Yunho sighs and folds himself into Changmin’s arms again. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he mumbles.

Changmin puts a hand in his hair and kisses him. He pushes Yunho’s mouth open with his tongue, not caring that Boa is watching, and licks into his heat and Yunho moans softly. 

“I love you,” Changmin whispers against his lips. Yunho smiles and presses one last kiss to his mouth.

“Let’s talk about something else,” he suggests, turning to face Boa. “Who did the Prince choose?”

“What?” Boa sounds distracted.

“For his bride. Who’s going to be the new Princess of the North?”

“Oh,” Boa rubs a hand over her face and sighs. “He chose me.”

They both stare at her. It wasn’t uncommon for the nobility to marry in their own bloodlines, and after all Boa was a cousin of the King, of good breeding and only a few years older than Jongin. Changmin remembers her waving off the suggestion that she was one of the ‘eligible ladies’ intended for the Prince to meet during the midsummer ball; clearly Jongin had not felt the same way.

“Oh,” he says.

There was after all no way the Prince could have known that Boa was not, in fact, a single woman.

“Oh dear,” Yunho murmurs.


	9. Chapter 9

The thirst for vengeance is quick to consume Changmin.

He who had yet to take his training seriously is suddenly up before Yunho every morning, spending long hours running through the drills with Donghae and then, when all the other guards had retired for the day, continuing on his own late into the night. Changmin has always been a quick learner, his only failing thus far a lack of motivation towards achieving Boa’s goals; but revenge, it seems, was proving an excellent incentive.

Yunho and Boa watch him from the top of the castle wall one morning, ducking and weaving around Donghae’s heavy-handed thrusts. Changmin was a nimble fighter, much more prone to using speed and precision to his advantage than relying on brute strength. He had abandoned the broadsword, calling it clumsy, and chosen to practice with a wooden spear instead.

He was quickly outgrowing Donghae’s tutelage – Boa would have to find him a new teacher. 

“Did you know?” Yunho asks her, watching Changmin execute a perfect parry. “That Athmos would come here that night.”

Boa turns slowly to stare at him. “Are you asking me if I planned it?”

Yunho shifts uncomfortably. “You made a point for us to meet him at the ball. It seemed an awfully big coincidence, for him to turn up precisely when you weren’t here. And for the outcome to have turned so neatly in your favour.” He nods at Changmin.

If he had glanced at Boa he would have seen the hurt flash across her face, but as it is she merely snorts and turns back to staring down at the courtyard. “It was no coincidence he came here that night. My uncle knew I had been delayed in the capital; he intended to exercise his clout here in my stead. But no – however low your opinion of me is I did not plan for what happened. Nobody could have.”

Yunho grimaces. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t be that cruel.”

Boa slants him a look from the corner of her eyes. There was something different about Yunho now – a sharp edge, as though some of his softness had burnt away the night he lost half the skin off his back. 

As the colder months set in Boa had ordered her father’s old furs to be taken out and aired, then dressed Yunho in them in a blatant show of authority. Nobody had commented except Siwon, who had stiffly asked if it was appropriate for a slave to wear the late Lord Kwon’s furs.

“I’d rather see them being used than rotting away in the storage chests,” Boa had said, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Standing on the battlements now the two of them make a striking pair, wrapped in black cloaks of bear fur, Boa’s dark hair moving in the cold breeze. Yunho’s hair is still burnished red, highlighted in the weak winter sun.

“What did you say?” he asks after a while. “When the Prince asked you to marry him.”

Boa snorts. “Tried not to panic. And somehow ended up inviting him here to buy myself some time.” She gives him a wry look. “He’ll arrive within the week.”

“We could get divorced,” Yunho suggests.

“Throwing the towel in already? I know I haven’t exactly been a model wife. . .” Boa feigns hurt and Yunho laughs.

“No worse than the husband I’ve been.”

Boa gives a small chuckle. “The problem is not that I can’t marry Jongin. It’s that I don’t want to.”

“You could be Princess – Queen one day,” Yunho points out.

“And be locked away in the capital, surrounded by sniveling courtiers, watched and followed and whispered about? That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want then?” Yunho asks curiously.

Boa closes her eyes, feels the warmth of the sun on her face. 

“Freedom,” she says. “To live my life the way I choose.” She looks at Yunho, at the golden collar clasped around his throat. “I’m sure you understand that better than anyone.”

Yunho gives her a wry smile but says nothing. They watch Changmin down in the courtyard for a while – Donghae’s given up for the day so he’s practicing with a dummy now, executing a series of thrusts and parries over and over. 

Boa sighs and starts to turn away.

“He’s going to be trouble,” Yunho says. 

Boa pauses. “Jongin? He’s a good kid.”

“Who just happens to be in love with his cousin aunt. Try to let him down easy.”

Boa’s grin is wolf-like in its brilliance. “I will be the soul of sensitivity.” She glances down at the courtyard before she leaves. “Tell Changmin to go easy on that dummy, will you? If he breaks it I’ll force him to spend the night making a new one.”

The sun has just dipped below the horizon when Yunho steps into the courtyard. He crosses his arms and watches Changmin, shirtless and running with sweat as he practices on the hapless dummy. 

“I think he’s dead,” Yunho says. 

Changmin gives a short laugh and turns to face him, shaking sweaty bangs out of his eyes. Yunho goes to him, unclasping his cloak and putting it around Changmin’s shoulders. In the dying light he seems impossibly tall and wild, the kind of hero who always dies too young. Yunho looks at him and feels a foreboding chill slide down his spine.

“Come inside,” he says softly, taking Changmin’s hand. 

Changmin’s grip tightens on the wooden pole he’s using for practice. “One more hour,” he says. He kisses Yunho, quick and fleeting, then shrugs out of the cloak and hands it back to him.

Yunho sighs and leaves him to it. He wanders the halls of the castle, lost in thought. Boa had excused him from training until his back healed fully, and in the meantime Yunho had found himself drawn to Seohyun’s stillroom, fascinated by the tinctures and medicines the maid was oddly adept at making. He asks her to teach him and accompanies her when she makes trips down to the village to visit the sick and elderly. 

“Lord Kwon had me trained as a healer from a young age,” Seohyun tells him. “I was eight when my parents died of consumption, so they brought me and Yoona to live and work in the keep. She eventually married Donghae, but I wanted to stay here.” She had given Yunho one of her soft, sweet smiles. “It’s home.”

He wonders where Seohyun is now, and if he can badger her into teaching him how to make one of the balms she had used on his back. 

The door of Boa’s private chambers is slightly ajar, and as Yunho passes it he hears voices from within. He pauses, unsure of whether to interrupt, and sees Seohyun seated at the dressing table while Boa brushes her hair.

Boa says something and Seohyun giggles, the long, silky fall of her hair shifting through Boa’s fingers. It’s an oddly intimate moment, stripped of all formality and barriers of station.

Yunho pauses. Blinks.

Boa smiles and draws Seohyun to her feet. She leads her to the bed and pulls her down onto it before straddling her.

Seohyun makes a soft sound and clutches at her back as Boa lowers her head and kisses her, her hair swinging down to shield their faces. They shift, press closer together, and Boa reaches a hand under Seohyun’s dress and slides it up.

Yunho wrenches himself away just as a quavering moan echoes from within, already knowing he’s seen too much.

\- - -

He tells Changmin what he saw when they’re in bed later that night. 

Changmin rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, mouth twisted in thought.

“That explains a few things,” he says. Yunho hums in agreement and trails his fingers up Changmin’s arm, tracing the line of his recently-formed muscles.

“I think it’s sweet,” he says. “Boa always seemed so. . .alone to me. But she had someone at her side all along.”

Changmin grins. “I guess I needn’t have gotten so jealous about your marriage after all.”

Yunho laughs and drops his hand. “I didn’t mind too much. You’re pretty hot when you’re jealous.”

Mischief lights Changmin’s face. He rolls over and pins Yunho under him, breath hot against his cheek.

“Oh yeah? You like that?” he rubs his nose in the crook of his neck and a giggle escapes Yunho. “You like it when I’m rough?”

“Yes, very much,” Yunho admits. Changmin bites at his neck, gets a chunk of warm skin between his teeth and nibbles on it while Yunho squirms and laugh-yelps under him. 

When he pulls back there’s a purple bruise blooming on Yunho’s neck and a blush high on his cheeks. He looks up at Changmin with hooded eyes, the cat-like slant of them filled with seduction.

“Changmin,” he murmurs, and Changmin’s breath tangles in his throat. He presses his lips against Yunho’s, fits their mouths together as their hands clutch at each other. Changmin draws Yunho up and tugs his nightshirt off, fingers catching on the tapestry of scars across his back. He gasps, and the sound is swallowed by Yunho’s mouth, hot and wet as it works over his.

“Yunho,” he breathes. They fumble at each other, shedding clothes and pressing together under the sheets. 

“Yun,” Changmin murmurs as he pushes Yunho’s legs apart, as he coats his length with oil and guides himself to Yunho’s entrance and pushes inside. 

Yunho makes a choked sound and throws his head back, tendons straining, a gorgeous sheen of sweat dewing his skin. Changmin licks at the hollow of his throat and groans at the heat of him, tight and perfect and _his_.

He presses their foreheads together as he starts to move, Yunho’s breath hot and trembling on his face, his moans loud in his ears. Changmin reaches across and takes his hand, their fingers sliding together and clinging, and Yunho gives a breathless laugh.

“I thought you’d be rough,” he pants.

Changmin huffs out a laugh. “Is that really what you wanted?”

Yunho smiles and closes his eyes, loses himself in the sensation of Changmin screwing deep into him. “No,” he breathes.

When they go over it’s together, hands clutched tight, into perfect, shattering completion.


	10. Chapter 10

“I saw you and Seohyun,” Yunho admits without preamble the following night. 

He’s kneeling on Boa’s bed while Changmin lounges beside him, sprawled out like a giant cat. Boa is seated at her desk writing a letter but she looks up at his bald statement.

“Oh? What did you see?” 

Yunho is silent, and his silence speaks for him.

Boa puts her pen down. “Oh.” She doesn’t look angry, more considering. “We’ve worked hard to keep this secret.”

“I’m sorry,” Yunho blurts out. “It was an accident – your door was ajar – ”

Boa’s expression is a mask of calm, impossible to read. “Does it make me seem different? More human?”

Yunho licks his lips. Changmin sits up, curious about where this is heading. 

“Yes,” Yunho says.

Boa narrows her eyes. “It shouldn’t,” she says, voice like ice, and Yunho understands that she is in fact angry. He had intruded where he wasn’t welcome, unwittingly or not, and it had shaken Boa. 

He wants to protest, to point out that he didn’t have to tell her what he saw, but he already knows it won’t help. Tension slides between them. 

“Hey,” Changmin says quickly. “It’s okay. Uh – he didn’t mean it. We won’t bring it up again.”

Boa’s eyes shift to him and Changmin understands – they’ve uncovered her weakness and it’s left her vulnerable. A woman like Boa can’t afford to have weaknesses.

“You can punish him,” he hears himself say. Yunho shoots him a sideways glance and Changmin puts a soothing hand on the small of his back, his eyes not leaving Boa’s gaze.

“Punish him. What punishment would you deem fit?” Boa says.

“Order us to perform for you. Order me to fuck Yunho for you. I’ll do whatever you want to him,” Changmin says in a rush. It’s a gamble – Boa could refuse, considering the punishment was barely a punishment at all. Or she could understand the offer for what it was: the white flag of their surrender. They had crossed a line and gained knowledge that could hurt her, and the only way to regain her trust was to hand the power back to her.

Boa’s eyes shutter. She turns fully towards them and steeples her fingers.

“Yunho,” she says, voice low. “Get on your back.”

Yunho sinks down on the bed willingly. His eyes meet Changmin’s, and the depths of them are soft and trusting.

“Undress him. Do it slowly,” Boa says. 

Changmin reaches for the buttons of Yunho’s tunic and undoes them one by one. He leans over, breath ghosting across Yunho’s lips, but they don’t kiss – Boa hasn’t ordered it. Yunho’s pale skin lights golden in the firelight and Changmin draws his tunic off, his hands ghosting over broad shoulders and soft pectorals.

His thumbs brush across his nipples and Yunho makes a sound. His head goes back and he thrusts his chest up against Changmin’s hand.

“Pinch them. Make them hard.” 

Boa’s voice is like smoke, softly compelling him to obey. Changmin touches Yunho’s nipples, then takes them between thumb and forefinger and squeezes. Yunho cries out, his chest heaving. A flush rises to his cheeks and Changmin squeezes harder, gets his nipples tight and perked. Yunho thrashes under him and Changmin lowers his head, puts the tip of his tongue against one tight bud. His tongue circles the areola, and when Boa doesn’t say anything he closes his mouth over it and sucks.

Yunho’s low moan echos across the room. It slides heat down Changmin’s spine, has him rutting against Yunho’s crotch. He puts his teeth into it and tugs lightly, reveling at the choked gasp that catches in Yunho’s throat.

“Changminnie,” he groans. Changmin’s fingers are still working on his other nipple, pinching and tugging with exquisite pain.

Yunho falls apart. His fingers clench in Changmin’s hair, pulling him closer.

“Please,” he gasps. “Please, please – ”

“Changmin,” Boa says pleasantly. “Suck him off. Make sure he doesn’t come.”

Changmin gets his mouth off Yunho’s chest and slides lower. He tugs his pants off and noses at the hair at the base of Yunho’s cock. His hand closes around the shaft, tugging in slow strokes as Yunho writhes under him. The musk of Yunho’s arousal is overwhelming, and Changmin groans. He turns his head and gets his mouth on Yunho’s cock, immediately sucking in as much as he can.

Arousal spreads sticky heat through Yunho. He pants, trying to get in enough air around the heavenly friction of Changmin’s mouth. Changmin bobs his head, expert and enthusiastic, almost choking when Yunho thrusts up. 

“Fuck – Changminnie – Boa, please,” Yunho babbles, his head thrashing. Changmin dribbles down his length, puller him closer to the edge, closer and closer – 

“Enough,” a hand curls in Changmin’s hair and tugs his head up. He surfaces with a gasp, breathing hard, and Yunho gives a soft wail of protest. 

Boa kneels on the bed, her eyes dark and glittering. In her hand is a cock ring, and she slides it onto Yunho’s throbbing erection. He whimpers and Boa slides off the bed.

“You may fuck him now. Do it on his hands and knees,” she says, going back to her place at the desk, and then looks down at the letter she was writing and seems to dismiss them altogether.

Changmin takes it as a challenge. He urges Yunho to roll over and get on his hands and knees, then fumbles at the bedside table for a jar of oil. Yunho groans and drops his head, arms tense, thick thighs parting under Changmin’s fingers as he circles his entrance and pushes one finger in. The muscles of his back shift, the scarred plane tensing, and Changmin puts his lips on each slowly fading line and kisses them. Yunho gasps and pushes back against him.

“Hurry,” he gasps. “Please – ”

Changmin can’t wait anymore. He undresses in a rush and slicks his length, groaning at the heat and tightness of his fist. He guides himself to Yunho’s clenching entrance and pushes in and Yunho arches his back and cries out like a cat in heat.

Changmin sinks in to the hilt and grabs Yunho’s hips, panting. He glances at Boa through sweaty bangs but she isn’t even looking at them. Teeth clenched, Changmin starts thrusting hard and deep, dragging across Yunho’s walls with each move.

Yunho curls his fingers in the bedsheets and holds on. Tension sings across his arms, his mouth parted on whimpers that slowly become higher pitched as Changmin fucks him. His chest bounces with each thrust, nipples still sore and peaked from Changmin’s ministrations. Veins stand out along his cock, the tip beaded with precum, the base trapped in the cock ring and unable to come. 

Changmin grunts, changing angles, and Yunho cries out as he starts brushing against his prostate. He pushes back, almost sobbing with sensation, desperate to come. 

“Please. . .Boa – ” he cuts himself off with a gasp as Changmin pulls him up flush against his body, Yunho’s head lolling on his shoulder. She finally looks up, dark eyes taking in the scene – Yunho with his knees spread and his chest thrust out, Changmin behind him and holding him up as he fucks into him. Yunho’s cock curves towards his stomach, pretty and trussed up in its binds.

Changmin’s breath quickens. He’s close, orgasm pooling deep in his gut. He clutches at Yunho’s thigh and forces him to spread his knees wider as he shafts into him. His eyes meet Boa’s and that dark, glittering gaze keeps him pinned on the edge. There’s a sweetness to her, Changmin realises hazily. He wants to please her, wants to protect her. Wants to kill for her.

“Come,” she says softly, and Changmin empties into Yunho with a shout. He bites into Yunho’s shoulder to muffle his groans, pleasure shooting up his spine.

Yunho shudders and pushes back against him, incoherent with need.

“Please, I need to – please Boa,” he whimpers.

Boa gets up and comes around to the bed. She takes hold of Yunho’s cock and he hisses.

“Don’t mention my relationship with Seohyun again,” she says, and pulls the cock ring off. 

Yunho orgasms with a scream. 

\- - -

Prince Jongin arrives at Kwon the next day, surrounded by a retinue of his guards and laden with presents for the Lady Boa.

The prince is friendly and sweet, and it’s almost a pity Boa has to break his heart. He’s oddly shy around Changmin and Yunho, and when Changmin asks him why he says they intimidate him. 

Changmin gives a surprised laugh. “But we are slaves your highness. You may command us anything.”

Jongin looks at him with wide eyes. Boa calls him Kai – a childhood nickname – and personally Changmin finds it more fitting than his regal birth name.

“I wouldn’t command you anything. You’re Boa’s slaves,” he says.

Changmin gives him a curious look. He’s been ordered to wait on the prince during dinner that night – the task is proving easier than expected.

“Do you have slaves of your own your grace?” he asks politely.

Kai’s eyes shutter. “No,” he says. “I do not.”

The topic seems to cause him some unspoken pain, so Changmin doesn’t enquire further.

They convene in Boa’s chambers later that night to discuss the rising insurgence on the borders. Kai is troubled, Boa thoughtful.

“We may need to enlist the help of the Southern lords – ”

“That would make the crown appear weak,” Kai frowns. “We need unity now more than ever but the South is a divisive issue. We need to secure our borders on our own. When you marry me – ”

“If,” Boa interrupts smoothly.

Kai’s expression flickers but he presses on. “ _If_ you marry me we secure one of our most important holdings for the crown. Kwon’s military is legendary.”

“Kwon stands beside the crown regardless of marital ties,” Boa says. “Do you have so little faith in me that you need to secure it like this?”

“That’s not why – ” Kai hesitates, his gaze flickering to Yunho and Changmin.

“You may speak openly,” Boa says.

“It’s not just because of the strategic advantage. I care for you. . .” Kai trails off, the pride of a prince not allowing him to bare himself further. 

Boa sighs and looks away. 

“I’m tired,” she whispers. 

There’s a pause, then Kai touches her shoulder and leaves. Changmin watches him go, curiosity stirring in the back of his mind.

“Why doesn’t the prince have his own slaves?” he asks.

Boa sinks into her armchair and rubs her forehead. “He had one, once. He fell in love with her and I advised him it was dangerous. So he let her go. He hasn’t taken a slave since.”

Changmin reaches across and takes Yunho’s hand, and thinks that perhaps sometimes loneliness is a higher price than freedom.


End file.
